Not My Generation
by Micktrex
Summary: A dark Alternate Universe where the scythe spell never turned the potentials into slayers. Buffy/Faith friendship eventual pairing. Buffy, on the precipice of insanity and reckless abandon is held in check by Faith as the world goes to hell around them.
1. Pinch Me

**Author's Note:** Okay, so this is my first attempt at a Buffy Fan fiction. This chapter is just a prologue to what's to come so if you're left confused don't worry. All will be explained as I progress.

Reviews are always appreciated even if it's just a few words on what you liked, didn't like – I'll accept an encouraging grunt if it's all you can muster.

Enjoy.

**Pinch me**

_In Buffy's dream, the bus she's on is unnervingly empty. The seats are stained with the blood of those who barely made it out of Sunnydale High and every face fails to hide an expression of defeat. _

_Her best friend sobs in the back row, cradling something Buffy can't quite make out from where she's standing. Tears run freely down the witch's face. Something terrible has happened. _

_In Buffy's dream, as the bus speeds on, forgotten are the names of countless frightened girls that pleaded for help as an overwhelming horde rushed towards them. But each face, each look of desperation and terror, is soldered into her memory. _

_There's that taste of bile rising in her throat again. The fear she feels is so potent it makes her want to wretch._

_The ever familiar stain of guilt creeps into her thoughts, from memories that refuse to grant her peace of mind. _

_Anger coupling with self-loathing, spreading through her body like a fire. Burning away the remnants of the girl she thought she was._

_In Buffy's dream, the chaos is suffocating her. There's no reprieve. No pause. No time out. Death is her gift and it follows her and her friends. _

_An insurmountable body count rising every day. _

_It's hundreds. _

_Then thousands._

_Then millions._

_She knows this because it's all the media outlets report on. It's the terror that's griping an entire country, alerting the world to something catastrophic; apocalyptic._

_Nothing to do but retreat. No way to stop the massacre. No time to get a grip on the situation and it's now too much to bear._

_And the anger, still the anger grows...and breathes and begs to be wielded through the scythe that failed her._

_But in Buffy's dream, she resists the dark instincts that drive her. She must stay focused. Has to lead. Has to fight. Slay. Kill. Breathe. Live another day. _

_Then hope. _

_A glimmer of hope from a past lover who promises to do what his predecessor couldn't. He takes the amulet against her protest. He kisses her farewell and leaves as she begs him to stop, even while knowing what's at stake. And then he's gone._

_And then he's gone._

_In Buffy's dream, the tears finally stop._

_The world stops._

_At least she doesn't notice that it's still moving without her._

_And there's the anger. Oh god, the anger. A rage she's never known for any enemy she's ever faced. It consumes her before anyone can attempt to cut its cancerous progress and by the time it's evident how far gone she is, it's too late._

_The anger turns to reckless abandon to madness to insanity. _

_In Buffy's dream, she's lost her fucking mind. Suddenly everything's just a joke. A pointless pantomime. The world's gonna end, she knows that for a fact. It's palpable from the smell of bodies rotting on the wind._

_And she couldn't care less._

_In Buffy's dream, there is only the freedom that comes with a loss of self and mind. _

_The only thing that irritates Buffy is the length of her dream. It really is getting on now. Surely she's slept long enough? Why hasn't she woken up yet?_

_She'd like to wake up now._

_It is just a figment of her overactive imagination after all. Just a dream. _

_Just a dream._

_Just a dream._

_Just a dream._


	2. Quarantine

**A.N: Thanks for the reviews on the prologue, guys. I know you're not sure what to expect from this fic but I hope what I decide to do with it grabs your attention and keeps you wanting more. Also my understanding of Idaho's geography may be half-assed but I did do some research to strengthen the writing. Hope it paid off... Reviews appreciated - Mike**

**Quarantine**

**Location: USA, near the Western border of Idaho.**

Bill Johnston was fuming. He'd waited over an hour on the interstate heading into Oregon in heavy traffic. The line of vehicles in front of him had barely crawled a few feet forward every minute or so, when he finally came into view of what was causing the congestion.

Military checkpoint was what came to mind. Soldiers lined a makeshift wall of chain-link fencing, concrete blockades and reels of barbed wire. As his truck crept closer, Bill could make out finer details – humvees toting heavy machine guns that swivelled and scanned the area, a large tank blocked the freeway ahead of him; just beyond the fence. National Guard troops ran frantically back and forth shouting orders as they received them – and then Bill saw something that made him curse out loud. He was now close enough to see that every vehicle in front of him was being diverted back along the adjacent freeway.

The reason for his hour wait was due to a combination of the disgruntled protests of each driver as they met the barricade and the steady flow of cars coming out of Oregon; very few seemed eager to slow down. Why the hell would they be letting people out of Oregon but not into it?

As Bill approached the barricade he glared without restraint at the soldier who informed him that for his own personal safety he would need to turn back the way he'd come. The fact his home resided beyond this barricade did nothing to gain sympathy for his predicament.

A sound from above caught his attention and he looked up to see three Chinooks fly overhead. Two carrying large crates and one with what looked like another humvee. They're seriously pulling out all the stops to keep people from crossing the border, he thought solemnly. As he enviously watched the aircraft move toward his own destination something else caught his eye.

The colour of the sky.

The clouds to be exact, seeing as you couldn't see the night sky past the stormy weather.

They were red. It was very subtle an hour ago but now the sky was a violent shade of scarlet.

"Sir. Please, it's in your best interests to turn around now." Bill started as he looked back down at the soldier he'd forgotten all about. "Sir?" Bill eyed the rifle held between the man's hands and sighed.

"Okay, I heard ya the first time. I'm gone."

Bill begrudgingly turned his truck and waited for someone to let him through. Eventually a car slowed to allow him access. But as Bill waved his thanks to the driver, for the briefest of moments as his headlights caught the car's windscreen, he saw their face; ashen with terror, eyes wide and unblinking.

Bill shuddered and sped off down the freeway.

"What's ya poison, son?" The truck driver acknowledged the question with a head nod towards the whiskey and gave muttered thanks when the bartender returned with his drink.

He took a long swig from his small glass and gestured that he wanted another. Bill had caught a break when driving back towards Boise; a secluded joint off the freeway caught his eye, nestled against the coniferous trees surrounding it and he figured a drink would soothe his foul mood. So far, so good.

The place was packed with confused, tired people. Some tourists, others regulars or just truckers like himself. Whoever they were and wherever they came from was unimportant; the place was buzzing with whispers and rumours of what was happening in Oregon. He'd already heard such gems as,

"...the storms across the coast got so bad they had to prevent people getting in and making the problem worse. I heard it on CNN. They need to help those affected and aid is stretched already as it is..." Bill overheard a female tourist explain to the group around her, as he stepped from his truck's cabin and locked the door. Looking up he was still greeted by foreboding clouds of rusted red.

And after that, when Bill went to visit the restroom, "It's a huge cover up by the government, Bob, I'm tellin'ya!" said an inebriated redneck to his buddy at the urinals. "Some disease, making people die left 'n' right like crazy. It's 'cross the whole damn West Coast 'n' they don't want it goin' no further."

Lastly and most recently were the mutterings of the scraggily-bearded, wild-eyed man beside him. "...is...'pocalypse...dem'ns. Dem'ns comin'!" Bill simply raised an eyebrow and shook his head, taking a swig from his second drink.

"He's been like that since I got here." Said the guy on Bill's other side.

"Something's definitely got the locals spooked I'll give you that much." He joked before offering his hand and the stranger shook it. "Bill."

"Sam." The stubble-faced stranger smiled. "Tell me about it. You hear the odd story of something bad going down in the woods, strange occurrences, unexplained deaths; that kind of crap. But nothing this full blown. Is it true there's a tank on the interstate?"

"Yup." Bill took a sip and winced briefly. "Not exactly sure how I'm gonna get back home at this rate."

"Shit." Sam seemed thoughtful for a moment as he played with the coaster under his beer bottle. "This must be serious. A friend of mine living in Santa Barbara told me a few weeks back that something huge went down a town over from her. Maybe this has something to do with it."

"California? You sayin' what every happened has crossed up the entire fucking coast? Doubtful my friend." Bill chuckled dryly.

"Look, I dunno, man. I just know that she was really shaken up. The whole damn city was in meltdown and planning an evacuation."

"And?"

"Well," Sam bit his lip, hesitating with the information he was about to reveal, "that was really...the last I heard...from her." His eyes shifted to Bill's, then away. Remembering this was apparently disturbing him. He then continued quickly as if to reconcile himself, "But I mean, I assumed she was just busy with all the commotion and evacuating and setting down somewhere new must eat into a person's daily routine. I'm sure she's fine." He shrugged the last part off like he had convinced himself of it.

"That's still kind of weird." Bill chipped in, his brow furrowed in thought.

"That's not even the weird part." Sam added after drinking deeply from his beer. He leaned in and Bill found himself doing the same as Sam said in a hushed tone, "She said that...she said whatever was happening...the people involved weren't...quite...human."

Bill's face looked incredulous but he waited for Sam to continue.

"It sounds stupid but she said..." He rolled his eyes as the words left his mouth, "it was 'vampire'."

They two men, strangers to one another, stared. Trying to gage the other's reaction. And then Bill chuckled cynically.

"Oh please. Vampires in California? You're more likely to catch melanoma than you are to develop a taste for human blood."

A loud snort of laughter distracted the two from their conversation and they turned to see a girl dressed in a worn, red top with the hood pulled over her head sitting at the end of the bar. Bangs of dirty, blonde hair hung past the hem of her hood and several shot glasses sat in front of her with what appeared to be a whole bottle of vodka; which she cradled gently in one hand.

"Something funny, little lady?" Bill inquired, his tone expressing annoyance. The blonde twisted round enough so that her face was just barely in view. She looked young.

"Private joke. One of those, 'you had to be there to get it', kinda deals." She replied, her bitter laugh reminiscent of a hyena mocking something it wanted to eat.

"That right? Well maybe try keeping the jokes to yourself." Bill growled with a sarcastic wink. The blonde chose to swivel further round on her stool to face him better, her body language demonstrating she wasn't scared of him in the slightest.

"Listen, Bill, wasn't it? Sam?" The two men exchanged looks at the revelation that she knew their names. "I overheard your...little chat...and I have to tell you...vampires are the least of your problems. That so called 'military barricade' down the road? It won't last the night." By this point most of the bar was listening to her, eager for answers.

"Why?" Bill challenged, not wanting her to get the last word. "What are they trying to stop?"

The blonde groaned as if his he'd asked something incredibly stupid and boring. "Don't you watch the news?" She spluttered, gesturing towards the television above the bar. "There's been city-wide destruction going on for nearly a month and you're all sooo content on believing the crap they tell you." The whole room seemed to have their attention on her as the rumble of chatter died down.

"The bad guys won. They're out. And they're cutting a bloody path up the West Coast just because that's the way they want to celebrate." She growled venomously.

An involuntary twitch jolted her.

"Killed my Spike killed my Angel tried to help...didn't work. Badidea. Shouldofknownbetter!" Her words came out so quickly that they were indistinguishable by the end of her sentence.

Bill watched her face contort as if in the midst of a bad dream, her eyes unfocused. People nearest the blonde took a careful step back.

"Well I'm glad you decided to share your mental breakdown," Bill mocked impatiently, "but I got a family beyond that fence and I plan on seeing them again real soon."

The girl seemed to wake from her thoughts as he spoke and let out a long, giddy laugh. Her smile extremely unnerving considering the way she'd just behaved.

"No you don't." The blonde practically giggled as her eyes bore into his. "They're already dead."

Bill was out of his seat so fast he didn't quite recollect how he'd managed to get within punching range of the blonde girl and been restrained by Sam and the biker next to him. The blonde didn't even flinch. She was too busy downing a shot and wincing as the alcohol burned down her throat, sticking her tongue out and shutting her eyes as she shuddered. "Never getting used to that. Bleurgh." Then she downed another.

"Are you drunk or just plain, batshit crazy?" He spat in her face and the petite blonde merely swayed a bit on her stool.

She regarded him coolly, "Were you always this tall?"

Bill breathed out in frustration and indicated he'd lost interest in hitting the drunken idiot in front of him and was let go. He returned to his seat, glaring down at his glass as he ground his teeth.

"Don't listen to her, man. She's wasted." Sam tried as he joined him again, normalcy slowly returning to the room. "Besides, this place has had its fair share of crazies over the last few weeks." Sam joked.

Bill gave a grunt in acknowledgement but didn't look at him.

"Dear, I think you've had enough." Bill heard the bartender down the other end of the bar state curtly to the young blonde. She sighed deeply and made a sound that he would associate with someone stretching.

"Good call, barkeep. A girl shouldn't go to work drunk."

He didn't dare look up. The temptation to slap her was becoming impossible to ignore. But the sound of several gasps and screams from her vicinity was enough to pique his interest. It took Bill a moment to notice the red and silver axe-like weapon the blonde had withdrawn from inside her top; its head currently resting gently against the counter. It was smothered in blood.

The bartender had drawn a shotgun from under the bar and was pointing it squarely at her head.

Unafraid of his reaction she chuckled, "You'd be better off saving the ammo."

The bartender gave her a look that was almost comical. Bill's eyes widened as he saw what lay beneath the girl's unzipped top. Aside from a tattered and bloodied tank top, the blonde had compiled a nasty collection of wounds and scars that covered any expanse of bare skin he could see. In some places bandages had been applied, but in others the wounds were so deep and so fresh that they still wept. The bartender noticed this too and gasped, pumping the shotgun as a warning to her.

His stomach churned unpleasantly as her gaze met his slowly. His discomfort increasing as a smile crept across her face. There was nothing warm or inviting about it and Bill mentally recoiled, losing the last ounce of bravado he'd presented towards her previously.

Something told Bill she wasn't ready to leave.

* * *

A loud crash from outside jolted the entire building and broke the staring competition between Bill and the strange blonde. There was a ripple of initial shock followed by hushed silence. All eyes were on the main entrance and several more gasps were uttered as the sound of automatic gunfire tore through the tense silence. This continued for several, nerve-rattling seconds as the bar's patrons waited with bated breath. There was a loud shriek and then the weapon ceased firing.

After what felt like an hour someone near the doors asked in a frightened whisper, "Do we go out?", before jumping back in fear as they were shoved open. A U.S marine caked in blood and dirt stumbled in, out of breath and visibly shaken.

"A full retreat's been ordered. Every...everyone here needs to move east to Boise; or as far as you can go. Ju..." He took a deep breath and closed his eyes as if trying to shake away some invisible distraction. "Just keep going east. This area is no longer safe."

"But why? What the hell's going on?" asked a burly-looking guy close to the marine.

The soldier glanced across the sea of curious, scared faces and repeated, "This area is no longer safe."

The sound of more gunfire accompanied by a cacophony of tanks was fast approaching in the distance along with other, disturbing sounds that Bill couldn't place. "Come on people let's move!" The soldier barked trying to regain his composure as people began to move quickly passed him.

People nearest the entrance got out first and even with Bill's forceful advances it took him a while to exit with the panicked crowd. What he saw on the outside made him wish he'd stayed inside. The cause of the crash became immediately evident as Bill saw the crumpled remains of a humvee against the outside of the building. The driver was hanging out of the window and had most of his throat missing.

Someone else was lying on top of the hummer's roof. Bill paused as he looked closer.

Its features weren't human. And its blood wasn't red.

Before he could absorb the shock of what he'd just seen he was pushed forward by more people from inside, all of whom were making hasty advances to their automobiles. A line of tanks were firing into the night and slowly reversing towards the bar's position.

"We've got incoming!" Shouted a marine looking upwards.

"Jesus..." Breathed the bartender as something huge and with leathery wings swooped down from the night sky and plucked one of the tanks from the ground like a pebble; tossing it carelessly into the surrounding woods. It landed with a thunderous crunch, snapping trees as it went.

"Told you." The voice made the aging man yelp in shock and jump around. The blonde girl had whispered it into his ear from behind him as she jabbed his shotgun into his chest and he took it from her. Bill was unfortunately drawn away to the scene unfolding some short distance down the wide, dark road.

Suddenly the concept of Californian vampires seemed absolutely plausible compared to the living horrors crawling, striding and slithering their way. Shifting, shadowy shapes that defied any rational explanation were working their way towards the battalion that blocked their path.

A score of missiles erupted from a MLRS that rolled up to only a few feet from Bill, projectiles sailing over his head as he fell to the ground, holding his hands to the sides of his head.

Bursts of machine gun fire were punctuated by the occasional ferocious hiss of rocket launchers, followed by their deafening impacts as soldiers held back a swarming collaboration of monsters.

Bill could do nothing but shield his ears as all hell broke out around him.

He watched as trees were reduced to splinters, cars – with people inside – crushed beneath clawed feet, viscera exploding outwards over man and machine as hideous creatures were obliterated into bloody piles of bone and sinew; only to be overstepped by something else behind with bigger teeth.

Without warning Bill found himself being dragged by the arm across the ground, recoiling in horror as he witnessed a thick, slimy tentacle twist around him as it pulled enthusiastically at its prey. Bill grabbed at the thing, trying frantically to remove it to no avail. It had the texture of a rhinoceros hide covered in syrup and as Bill fought the urge to vomit, he watched himself approach a circle of cruel, serrated teeth. A terrified, whimper escaped his lips. His eyes shut involuntarily as his body accepted what was about to happen.

The thing hissed and snarled; its rancid breath within his range of smell. It let out a howl that chilled his blood and the steady pulling stopped. Then started again but in the opposite direction. Bill opened one eye and saw to his amazement the blonde girl pulling the tentacle – now severed – with him entangled, single-handedly back across to a more secluded area.

They were further from the fight now and as the girl tore the appendage off of him as if it were a loose belt and lifted him to his feet by the scruff of his shirt, he wondered if this predicament was any safer. Her eyes burned up at him through the bangs of her hair and for a moment he realised how attractive she'd be without that cold, murderous stare. Cute button nose, a bottom lip with its own pout and eyes that were genuinely beautiful – she was no eyesore. But the scars and marks that crisscrossed these delicate features spoke of a woman who had endured worse than a thousand men.

The face of a survivor. A warrior. A goddess.

He swallowed nervously, "Who in the hell are you?" he asked, blunt with curiosity and fear. The girl smiled that same unnerving smile. A smile that told him she knew things he'd never want to know.

"I'm Buffy...and I'll be your slayer for the evening."

Bill blinked.

"No, really?"

"I'm gonna do you a solid, Billy Boy." Buffy shouted calmly over the sounds of fighting and dying men; unfazed by the chaos around them as it reflected harmlessly in her eyes. She pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt and he eyed her weapon apprehensively. The look on her face was devoid of her earlier humour as she simply said, "Run. Forget your dead family. Forget everything that way," she pointed with the scarlet scythe, "There's nothing good beyond the fence. Nothing you want to be anywhere near. Not anymore."

"But I can't...I can't just leave them!" Bill cried in disbelief, begging for an alternative, "I need to know if they're okay, if I can save-"

"Bored now." Her expression had changed so quickly it was terrifying, "Things to kill."

And with that she had released him, dashing off to join the battle that viciously raged on. Bill's eyes followed her in incredulity as she disappeared through the flurry of movement and cannon fire.

As the gears in his head began to turn and take in her final words, Bill Johnston paid no attention to the loud rustling in the trees behind him. Neither did he move when a creature of terrifying magnitude and shape emerged between the branches, gnashing the teeth that ran vertically down its elongated, nightmarish face.

His last thoughts weren't of his family or his friends back home. They were of the girl he'd of called insane any other night. A girl who looked barely older than his own daughter and who had skipped into a fire fight between men and monsters like it was her very own playground.

A girl named Buffy.

Pity he never took her advice.


	3. The Lucky Few

**A.N: Cheers to those who reviewed, glad my approach to Buffy went down well. This chapter is mostly Faith oriented so I hope you enjoy my 'Dark' version of her too. Sorry this took a while.**

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* * *

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**The Lucky Few**

**One Week Later.**

**Location: Utah, Salt Lake City.**

Faith took a long, slow drag from her cigarette as she leaned on the railing beside her. She held the smoke in her mouth for a moment then let it flow out between her lips in a sigh.

Surrounding Faith was the City of Salt Lake; at least what was left of it. The demonic hordes weren't too particular on how they destroyed the homes of humans, but they sure as hell had an extensive range of methods. Faith's lip curled into a ghost of a smile as the reality of her situation sunk in. It was hard not to notice how screwed they were.

Plumes of black smoke billowed from enormous fires that hollowed out skyscrapers and street-level stores alike. The smoke rose to join the dark, stormy clouds above as meagre rays of sunlight bled through the murky heavens. And since the horizon was spreading a thick, red mist towards her location, the light literally did bleed through; everything below a violent hue of crimson. A loud cracking sound followed by thunderous rumbling alerted Faith to a large portion of an office block crumbling away into the street below. Faith watched on unperturbed. It wasn't an uncommon sight. Place was a ghost town.

Everyone had been evacuated as soon as they heard word that the tide of evil was rolling their way. To Faith it had seemed kind of retarded to delay the inevitable. But whatever, she wasn't the boss girl. It was the general's decision what happened on the frontline, Faith and the others were just convenient assets.

As she brought the tip of the cigarette back to her lips the soldier beside her gave her a look.

"Problem?"

"No ma'am." His eyes shot back to the perimeter. Then added abashed, "I'm trying to quit ma'am."

Faith snorted. "I'll let you bum one." She offered the pack to him, "Won't tell. Honest."

Her cheeky grin at least earned her a smile.

"What's ya name?" she queried after another puff.

"Private Charlie Samson."

"That's tough."

"Ma'am?"

"Having your parents name you Private."

The soldier couldn't tell if she was joking or just stupid. He decided to just smile and nod.

"It's Giles." Faith hadn't even heard her step out onto the roof but as she turned in mild surprise there stood Willow with a satellite phone pointing towards her face. The witch wasn't smiling. But she rarely did since ground zero.

"Thanks Red." She muttered awkwardly with the cigarette still pressed between her lips as she put the pack away.

"Faith. How are you?"

"Five by five. Still alive. So must be doin' somethin' right." She joked humourlessly. "How's tricks in jolly old?"

"Fine, fine.

"How privileged you are." Her bitterness was barely concealed and she heard Giles tut under his breath.

"I can assure you I've made every effort to keep check on the events unfolding in America, Faith."

"Reassuring." She breathed with frustration. It wasn't aimed at him, just at the situation. "How's the kid?"

"Dawn's doing well...missing you all understandably, but enjoying university nonetheless. She's perfectly safe here." Giles sounded impatient.

"What can I do you for, G-man?" Faith decided to not waste time on pleasantries. There was a war in progress. No one called for an idle chat. She heard him sigh quietly and Faith imagined he was cleaning his glasses in the pause that followed.

"I need to ask...has..." He was hesitant. She knew immediately what Giles was going to ask.

"No." Her tone was suddenly icy.

"You're sure? " He was on the precipice of pleading and it did nothing to gain him sympathy. "No sign at all? She-"

"I said no, Rupert." Faith snapped, causing Willow to glance at her briefly with bemused interest. The use of his first name was enough to silence the watcher.

"Fine. I apologise. Just thought I'd ask." He sounded so defeated that Faith felt herself crack under a sense of newfound guilt. Just as she was about to say sorry for snapping, the loud and sudden sound of a whining siren cut through the city-wide silence.

"We have company." Willow declared in a deathly quiet voice.

"What is it? Is there an attack? Faith? Can you-"

"Sorry, Giles. Gotta work."

Faith hung up. She had pressing matters at hand; such as the viciously sharp disc that had stopped an inch from her nose. She gulped as the weapon's teeth flashed menacingly in front of her. "Thanks." she said hoarsely as Willow moved the disc away from Faith's head with some unseen spell and dropped it harmlessly over the edge. The slayer watched it clatter to the cracked sidewalk below then refocused on the maze of broken buildings further out. "How many?" she asked bluntly, removing the remains of her cigarette and flicking it over the side.

"Six...no, seven. Assassins; Scattered from West to East." Willow stated in an indecipherable monotone. "I think their leader is amongst them."

"Oh, goody." Faith's lips curled into a voracious grin as she lowered to one knee and picked up the rifle that had been resting against the railing. "I still owe him a lil' somethin' somethin' for the doozey he left me with yesterday." She referred to the deep scar running down the left side of her face. It stung like a mother and she'd been itching for payback since.

"Well lucky for you he just tried to make it two – zero. Have fun evening the score."

"Will do." But Willow had already vanished. No doubt off to check the magical defences. Or maybe sit in a dark room and cry. Most people liked that option lately.

It didn't take long for the first S.O.B to raise its ugly head. Grateful for her slayer vision and the scope on her rifle, Faith smirked, "Adios." She squeezed the trigger and the demon's head exploded like a watermelon. It wasn't the same thrill from the hunt she'd get in close combat with only her instincts and a hefty weapon in hand...but it was satisfying nevertheless.

By this time a squad had reached the roof and were taking positions along the edge with the slayer, taking aim and firing down at the Assassins without hesitation. Nobody wanted them any closer than the 30 storeys down they already were. Someone fired an RPG and there were woops and cheers as the rocket tenderised another demon. A lull grew, as gradually, each assassin was taken out.

Then she spotted him. He'd been watching her the whole time, crouched behind the ventilation system of an apartment block directly in front of her. She could hear his unmistakeable hiss of a laugh on the stiff breeze blowing her way. Faith's jaw clenched as anger boiled inside her. Grudges were kind of her thing. His impossibly wide smile displayed no fear. No need to hide from her crosshairs. It served only to enrage her further and she'd fired without even meaning to.

Too quick; he'd dodged the bullet effortlessly and his laugh seemed to echo louder across the empty city. The reason for his apparent confidence was soon revealed.

First there were two. Then five. Ten. Twenty. She lost count. A collaborative horde of nasties were amassing in the streets and on the roof tops below as Faith saw the troops exchange anxious looks. Slowly, the roar of battle cries and inhuman screams grew until it was deafening. Faith swallowed hard, her resolve unwavering, as she reloaded her rifle and heard the same sound repeated along the frontline. "Get ready Jarheads. Whoever hits the highest body count gets me for the night."

A ripple of laughter. Who said she couldn't keep up morale?

As Faith got ready to take her next shot her attention was drawn to sudden movement in enemy lines. From behind this living wall of horrors appeared several small, yet unnervingly cruel-looking siege weapons. Faith leaned back from her sight and cocked her head, taking in the scene below with curious puzzlement. "The hell?" Faith voiced out loud, furrowing her brow as an uneasy feeling spread through her. This was new.

"Ballista and catapults at twelve o'clock!" yelled a troop nearby, "Duck and cover!"

Looking through her scope again Faith watched in horror as ropes were pulled taut by demonic fingers, waiting to release projectiles designed for a world of hurt.

"Oh, you have ***got*** to be shittin' me..."

She rolled back from the railing, dropping her rifle, as the first bolt blew a sizeable chunk out of the building; leaving a gaping hole. Faith lost her footing, falling into the remains of what was once a luxury corner office. Burnt paper and dry wall swirled and collapsed around her. She coughed as smoke and dust billowed into her mouth, filling her lungs. The whistling sound of a second bolt caused the slayer to snap her head round just in time to watch it impact with the concrete above.

* * *

It was night. But there were no stars.

No wait, there was one.

It moved across Faith's line of vision and around again, gaining friends as she stared harder. A muffled shout thundered form the heavens and the black sky split open, red light bleeding through as Xander's giant head looked down at her.

"She's alive!"

His voice was horrendously loud and her head felt broken as his words vibrated through her.

"Urr?"

"As diverse a vernacular as ever; she's fine." Even through her blurry vision she could tell he was smiling broadly.

"...ffuh ohf...blahk beard..." she grumbled as more light broke through and strong arms pulled her up and out of the rubble. Xander on one side and Private Samson on the other, Faith was hoisted slowly up and supported as she steadied her feet in the destroyed remains of the office.

In the matter of seconds it took for her to clear her head and notice she was being supported, Faith removed both offending arms firmly, "Mm fine."

"You sure? You had half the roof on you." Xander pressed, brushing debris off his uniform.

"Ya don't say? Beats me cus I feel fffffu...antastic." Faith grimaced as she bit back the pain throbbing through her body like a jackhammer. "What's the sitch?"

"Artillery kicked in." He replied, switching to military mode. He offered to help her up the steel ladder that had been dropped down to them and she accepted begrudgingly, unable to deny how difficult the simple task was. Once they reached the top Xander continued, "They're holding back enemy forces. Our artillery is the rock to their scissors. S'what happens when you bring Roman toys to the table and we're sporting 21st century kickass."

"Not got a standard army quote for that one, huh?" Faith joisted him as she regained some strength in her legs.

"I have a few. But I liked my way better. " Xander quipped, not missing a beat. Faith suddenly noticed that the rooftop was now pot-marked with flaming craters that marines were hurriedly trying to get under control. So much for having a peaceful spot to have a smoke.

"Casualties?" Faith asked, expecting the worst.

"Luckily, only you. And hey!" Xander yelped as she socked him in the arm. He really was too cocky for his own good these days.

"Roger that. Sir, they're reporting a full retreat. We should be clear of present danger for now." Charlie announced as he received the information over his helmet's headset. Faith's sense of relief was short lived as she watched something crawl up and over the railings, digging its claws into the Private's shoulder as it attempted to pull him over. Xander went to play tug-o-war with the demon but didn't reach him quick enough.

Faith was faster.

The dagger that had been unsheathed from her belt was already resting by her side as the demon's head slowly peeled back from its neck, falling to the street below and followed in quick succession by the rest of it.

"Clear?! My firm, Bostonian ass is that clear!" Faith said incredulously.

"I-I guess o-one g-got through." stuttered a wide-eyed Charlie. He muttered thanks, rubbing at his shoulder and made some excuse to return to his post. Poor kid, Faith thought, that's probably the closest he's been to the action.

"They blow you up; knock you down and still you put the Duracell bunny to shame." Xander stated in amazement as Faith cricked her neck, the pain starting to ebb.

"This girl's got stamina what can I say?" bragged the brunette with a cocky grin. "God I love this thing!" Faith exclaimed as she twirled her dagger easily between her fingers, staring at it with quiet reverence. "The unspeakably evil always leave the best prezzies after you off 'em."

"As long as you don't develop a sudden urge to eviscerate me anytime soon, I'm happy you've made friends with the thirteen-inch knife." Xander quipped, genuinely impressed with how easily she'd beheaded the demon, but always there to find the funny. Faith rolled her eyes.

"You're mostly safe, Pugwash." She shot back keeping her trademark grin. Her hands came to rest on the railing that ran around the roof's edge once again and she scanned the mid-apocalyptic city that she'd called home for the last three months. It had definitely seen better days. She on the other hand, could place this day and all those in the months before it high above some of her worst memories.

Faith's expression and body language suddenly changed. Her legs buckle ever so slightly as she let out an odd groan. Xander hastily caught her arm before she could fall and helped her to stay standing.

"Heyyy, still a bit woozy, huh? Maybe you should sit d-"

"You don't feel that?" Faith asked, struggling to breathe normally as she clutched her chest. "You can't tell me you don't feel that, man. Jesus it's so..." Familiar was one word. But also alien. She'd felt this connection before. This intense sixth sense. But not with this baggage. The connection was damaged. Cracked, bleeding, wrong. She felt refreshed and nauseous at the same time.

Closing her eyes she focused, pinpointing the source. It was close. Painfully close. It was-

"Oh god." She finally recognised this feeling. Her eyes shot open and Faith saw what she expected.

"Faith? Hellooo? What's wrong?" When she didn't answer he was forced to follow her unwavering gaze to a lone figure some fifty or so meters away, perched atop a commercial building, legs swinging gaily over the edge. Squinting with his one good eye, he struggled to make a face out; but no one could blame him for his lack of perspective. He took his telescope from out of his breast pocket – yes, Faith teased him mercilessly over it – and aimed it at the stranger.

His jaw nearly dropped to his polished boots. "Oh my god..." He could barely bring himself to believe what he'd seen.

Glazed eyes meet his; Faith's expression a storm of emotions. Each one evidently battling its way past months of repression to reach the surface and Xander Harris suddenly saw how much Faith had sacrificed to keep herself together these past, gruelling weeks.

"It's her, isn't it?" she asks him, her voice barely a husky croak, "Buffy."

**To be continued...**


	4. Unrecognizable

**A.N: Thanks for all the great reviews on chapter 3. Very motivating! Also, someone called Draco tried to recommend a website/place for me to upload my work but there was a blank gap in the review! Not sure if it was spam or a mistake but Draco if you could try again I'd be happy to know where you think this story would do well. Hope you all enjoy this chapter. Reviews always appreciated.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but my imagination. Joss Whedon's characters belong to him (need to get in the habit of saying this...).**

**

* * *

**

**Unrecognizable**

In the town of Sunnydale, beneath the basement of Sunnydale High School, a score of young, terrified women, two slayers and a vampire approached the edge of a steep cliff.

"I'm not worried..." Buffy stated unconvincingly as they stopped at the precipice of rock. They all took a moment to absorb what lay below them. An endless sea of ancient vampires roared and snarled beneath the cliff, their numbers stretching into the distance, accompanied by the clattering of steel on stone. Spike took a step back, his devil may care attitude having apparently gone on vacation. Buffy Summers looked down at what she had come to face – abruptly and all on her own accord – she gulped loudly. _Whose idea was this again? Oh right, mine. Me, you're an idiot._

"I'm not worried." Buffy whimpered her previous words as her eyes grew wide at the overwhelming sight.

"Really?" asked an unnerved Rona, "Cus I'm flashing back to Xander's whole bathroom speech."

"Buffy?" Amanda implored, hoping for some reassuring plan of action.

"I'm not worried." She repeated with confidence this time. "As long as Willow can work her spell before they -"

A loud roar interrupted her, followed by deathly silence as an ocean of the undead glared up at the gathering of people on the cliff.

"-see us..." She finished weakly. As one the Turok-Han began to claw their way up the face of the cliff, wave after wave ascending as they howled with rage.

"Willow..."

* * *

When Kennedy appeared from the seal's doorway she knew immediately that something was wrong. The potential's face was strained with an anxious look that met Buffy's look of confusion. Through punches, kicks and the swing of weaponry she saw an expression on Kennedy's face that made all hope within her evaporate in an instant. Barely had the young girl tossed Buffy the scythe and two Turok Han had already pounced on her. Kennedy went down so quickly that Buffy couldn't believe her eyes. This wasn't right. Where was the slayer strength? Why were her girls dropping like flies? She turned to quickly stake one vampire and behead another and had a brief moment to survey the scene around her. They were losing – badly.

The realisation that nothing had changed, that they weren't slayers, seemed to have doubled the fear of the potentials and diminished their ability to fight. Individual girls were being picked off by groups of four or more vampires a piece. The only ones holding the line were Faith and Spike but even they were struggling against the relentless tide of vampires.

Buffy took out another three Turok Han with three graceful, effortless movements and did her best to defend the potentials she'd worked so hard to train and keep alive. An infuriated yell got her attention and Buffy span around to see Spike in bad shape, bleeding from multiple wounds that had left his leather duster in tatters. He swung his fists wildly and desperately at each new horrific face to cross his path, trying in vain to protect the girls he'd lived with alongside the slayer. Her moment of distraction was enough time needed for one well placed sword stroke. The cold metal went through her back and out her stomach, withdrawing from her body as quickly as it had entered.

In shock, Buffy touched the spot where blood was quickly soaking through the material of her top. She looked at the reddened tips of her fingers then promptly fell to the ground.

Faith's fist connected with another vampire's jaw and in a brief reprieve she was met with the sight of her fallen friend.

"Buffy!"

* * *

Faith's face had been unreadable for the last five minutes. Her knuckles had gone white from how hard she was gripping the metal railing. Xander backed away slightly as the steel twisted and buckled in her iron grip. After a moment Xander extended one hand gently, cautiously placing it on her shoulder. She didn't react in a visible manner so he gave a firm squeeze and said, "Faith. Come on, Faith, snap out of it. It's a shock for me too. But it's her." The joy in his voice is unmistakable and almost sickly, "She's alive. She's come back to us and that's all about the good."

Faith's dark eyes flicker to him and for just a second or two Xander could have sworn she looked angry. Uncontrollably, inconsolably angry. It's enough to send a shiver down the young man's spine but it's gone in an instant.

"Yeah." She practically whispered. "Just the shock, ya know. Took me..." She squinted down at the distant figure, taking a moment to wall up her emotions again and composed herself. "Took me by surprise is all." Faith finished, regaining the volume of her voice.

The pair watched Buffy from afar, not sure of what their next move should be. Faith could still feel the slayer connection pumping through her veins like liquid fire; her bones, muscles and mind slowly gaining some control over the pulsing sensation causing her to shake. She gradually calmed herself, as the shock wore off and the bond returned like an old memory forgotten for decades.

A tranquil peace set between Faith and Xander – only to be shattered by the ear-splitting sound of a rifle firing next to them. They both jumped, watching as the bullet barely missed Buffy.

"What the hell are you doin'?" Faith barked as the man responsible hung helplessly in the air, his legs kicking out as his boots barely scraped the floor.

"There was movement! I thought-"

"Does she look like a demon?" She allowed the soldier a moment to get a better look.

"No." He gulped.

"Really, Private Trigger Happy? Cus she might as well have horns and a tail for all you care, dumbass!" She yelled. Every soldier on the roof had watched in silent, surprised fear as the private tried to pry the slayer's fingers from his throat. Faith let him drop to the ground.

Xander was having a conversation over his radio. He finished and approached Faith wearily, his eyes darting briefly to the Marine rubbing at the slayer-sized hand print around his neck. Faith was still scowling at him. "What's it with our boys and friendly fire? Seriously?"

"I've cleared it with ground patrol. They'll let her in past the perimeter." Xander divulged, deciding a long time ago that the best methods to deal with Faith involved ignoring her bouts of uncontrolled anger and praising her better moments.

"That's if she decides to come in." Faith jeered. "Looks pretty cosy over there." She pointed her thumb in the general direction of Buffy, not bothering to look. "She skipped class to do her own thing. Don't see why she'd waste her time coming-"

"Uh, Faith?"

The Bostonian turned to see what Xander was directing her attention to. The original slayer was already making her away across the war-torn streets toward them. "Looks like she decided. We should go down and meet her at the gate."

The snarl that wanted to form merely settled on a twisted expression of aggravation. Nothing good was going to come of this. Nothing. She'd paid her dues. Moved on. Worst of all she'd have to call back Giles. Faith didn't think she could stand the joy this news would bring him. Everyone was on team Buffy – no matter what she did.

"Great." Faith sighed with as much enthusiasm as a deflated balloon, "Can't wait to find out what goldilocks got up to."

* * *

The pair strode from the building's lobby and outside heading toward the main gate. The military complex was complied of several civilian structures and the streets surrounding them. Makeshift steel walkways had been built between buildings to establish quick movement within the infrastructure of the base. The streets were packed with military vehicles and supplies. A Chinook was in the process of delivery more crates to a nearby rooftop. The atmosphere of the place was electric. The base was in constant motion, preparing for the worst to come.

As they neared the twenty foot tall, iron cast gate, Faith could finally see the legendary golden girl up close. She was wearing a blood-red pullover zipped up to her chin, red camouflage pants broken up with patches of khaki and black and a pair of black combat boots. It amazed Faith that even during the end of days Buffy had managed to keep up her sense of fashion. Some things never changed.

As for the girl herself, when the blonde raised her head to meet their eyes her face was half-hidden by the shadow of her hood. One of the guards in the security booth flicked a switch and the gate slowly opened. The blonde enter cautiously. Every step calculated as she approached Xander and Faith. The ancient scythe hung loosely in one heavily bandaged hand, the blade's edge resting on the ground. Even at a quick glance it was clear the weapon had seen a lot of action. There was also a battered, black backpack slung over one of Buffy's shoulders.

"That how you welcome all your guests?" she asked quietly, face unreadable thanks to the hood. The girl seemed to sway from side to side as if she might collapse at any given moment. Faith wasn't sure when she'd shoved her hands into her jean pockets but they sure weren't budging anytime soon.

"There was a misunderstanding." Xander explained. He was finding it extremely hard to stay formal in front of the guards. Faith could tell a hallmark moment reunion was bubbling just beneath the surface. "It's good to see you, Buff." The smile on his face was enormous. _Yep. It's coming,_ she thought as she breathed out loudly.

"So..." Buffy started as her head turned in Faith's direction, picking up on her excessively irate body language, "This the whole welcoming party? Where's Will?"

"She's here." Xander blurted, panicking at the fact he'd forgotten Willow. "She's definitely here. Somewhere." He reached hastily for his radio and asked, "Can we get a status check on Willow Rosenberg ASAP please."

Faith elbowed him hard in the ribs giving him a look that surpassed incredulity. "Get a grip."

"Right, my bad. I just..." Before anyone could react Xander had thrown his arms around Buffy and was squeezing her small figure for all his worth. The exchange was awkward at best as Buffy made no attempt to hug him back and stood perfectly still, every muscle tensed. Her expression was hidden behind Xander's broad shoulder.

"Oh for f..."Faith trailed off as she rolled her eyes and made her own way back.

Unfortunately for Faith the other two met her by the time she got to the elevator. Xander seemed disgruntled.

"We're heading for the tenth floor." Xander explained as he pushed the necessary button. "Felt Buffy should get a check up." He frowned as he glanced at the blonde. Faith simply nodded. They rose steadily up in stifling silence, the automated elevator music playing obnoxiously in the background. Faith had the opportunity to take in the finer details of Buffy's appearance. She seemed to be packing quite the armoury.

"Where'd you get the 'nades?" She asked bluntly, referring to the incendiary grenades strapped to a belt around Buffy's waist.

"Dead guy."

"And the combat knife?" She queried, noticing the sheath on her right boot.

"Other dead guy."

Faith had definitely learnt her lesson about curiosity and the cat. There was a long silence where Xander cleared his throat and struggled with where to look.

"This is the office building for the church of Latter-Day Saints, ya know." He said suddenly. Both girls glanced sideways at him even though his outburst was directed at Buffy. "We thought of holing up in the temple itself but...offices make for better bedrooms." He continued, "Plus anything under the name of the church is good mojo in my book."

"Huh." Buffy stared then turned her attention to the ceiling. The doors mercifully opened and Faith stepped out first, eager to leave a claustrophobic space with Colonel Cuckoo and Major Kissass for company. They moved down a hallway that Faith recognised as the medical wing; the entire floor was set aside for dealing with ailments, injures and quite often – casualties. Gurneys were pushed back and forth as medics moved quickly from room to room.

"Here we are, Buff. Jamie here will show you to an available room." A kind-faced male guard motioned for Buffy to follow him. For a moment Faith tensed, certain that the older slayer wouldn't budge, but then she slowly followed the man to a room some way down the corridor. When she was gone from sight Xander approached Faith. The way he was avoiding eye contact told her she wasn't going to like what he was about to say.

"What?"

"I didn't say anything!"

"You're about to." Xander shuffled uncomfortably on the spot.

"Fine. Yes, I was." He began. "I want you to go in there with her. Keep an eye on her."

Faith didn't say a word.

"Hey. Don't make 'I want to kill you' face. We talked about that." He joshed.

"Do what I like..." Faith grumbled staring at her boot as she scuffed the toe against the floor. Xander narrowed his eye at her. "She's a fruit loop, Xand!" Faith protested after an extended silence.

He paled at her raised voice, eye darting consciously to the doorway which Buffy had just stepped through. He moved Faith further away before letting her continue.

"What good's a one on one with Britney gonna do? Cus believe me I'm the stick to her bear an' I've got nothin' better to do than poke." She promised as she prodded him in the chest, eyebrows raised in defiance.

"She seems plenty sane, Faith." Xander whispered back in exasperation, checking they were well out of earshot, "Why can't you just open your mind to the possibility that her time...away...helped her deal with everything that happened?"

Faith made a loud, dismissive sound.

"I dunno, Xander," Faith said guardedly, arms tightening across her chest, "why you so quick to forgive?" Immediately Xander froze up.

Faith already knew the answer. She knew that for the last few weeks, despite the jokes and peppy one-liners, Xander was losing the fight to maintain his brave face. The loss of Buffy from their ranks had hit him as hard as any of them but he was the only one who'd turned to alcohol to forget the feelings of betrayal and abandonment. The look on Faith's face told Xander she'd regretted her words.

"Hey man, I'm sorry. I'm an idiot..." She said softly, running a hand through her hair and resting it at the back of her head, still reeling from the revelation of Buffy's return. She let out a long exhale. "I'll try."

"Thank you." Xander said gratefully, a small smile gracing his tired face. "I need to sort out the mess up top. You'll be okay?"

"Yeah. You know me – five by five." Her smile was mostly obligatory so that the veteran scoobie would leave feeling confident with the situation. Once he'd disappeared behind the closing elevator doors the smile was gone and a steely resolve had settled in its place. She walked to the examination room, closed her eyes, took a deep breath and entered.

* * *

Buffy was sat with legs crossed squarely on an examination table in the middle of the room. The guard was watching her warily beside the door. He looked extremely apprehensive. Faith could see why.

Buffy had removed her pullover and the extent of her injuries was laid bare under the harsh lamp light. Scars laced nearly every inch of exposed skin; dark bruises and cuts littered her body and the faint hue of red could be seen through several crudely wrapped bandages. Buffy's tank top was in tatters and a large portion was removed to show four long claw marks across the slayer's abdomen. Faith felt a lump rise in her throat.

"Wow, do you look like crap." She breathed without thinking.

"Thanks. I see your face got friendly with something sharp too." Buffy retorted calmly.

"They were lucky." Faith deadpanned, annoyed at the reminder of her recent scar. "But damn, B. Maybe I can patch you up before the Doc comes." She offered, moving to one of the cabinets for medical storage.

"I'm fine." Buffy replied serenely as she removed the combat knife from her boot and studied it lovingly. Faith uneasily watched as Buffy dug the knife along the surface of the impeccably clean table. At first it seemed she was drawing something with purpose, but after a minute or two, Faith still couldn't decipher anything from the older slayer's child-like engravings. Watching this disturbed her. It brought back memories of the last time she, Buffy and a large knife had been in the same room together. Her stomach tightened at the reminder.

Buffy's erratic behaviour was troubling the guard and he subconsciously reached for his handgun. Faith gestured him not to.

"It's fine. I can handle her."

Buffy laughed. "Was that one of your home-grown innuendos, Faith?" she smirked, looking up at her through her lashes. It was frightening that she still looked attractive with all those scars. "What? No encore?" Buffy pushed, swaying slightly as she rocked the knife back and forth on its tip.

Faith clenched her jaw, "On second thought, leave the gun." The guard handed it over butt first and she took it, holstering it in the back of her jeans. The older girl just stared her down with a carefree grin.

Faith waited till the latch on the door clicked shut before she next spoke. She moved closer to Buffy and leaned in aggressively, hands placed either side of Buffy on the examination table as the rogue slayer met her eye level. "This whole 'lost and delirious' act you got goin'?" Faith whispered darkly, "Unimpressed. You're not cute. You're not funny, not even a little, B."

"Didn't realise this was Saturday night stand up, ***F***." Buffy countered, casually admiring her blood-flecked nails before her gaze flickered back to Faith. Faith tried to see some sign of the old, sane Buffy but her once appealing hazel eyes appeared lifeless now. Faith pushed herself away from the table and paced. She was unsure of what to say next and what to do with the blonde in the long haul. She wasn't the speech giver or the decision maker, hell, she was barely a leader. Having super powers was just a sure-fire way of ascending the ranks to leadership. Everyone just expects you to be the best for the job. She knew her cocky, life-chasing attitude would be the end of her. Faith paused at the window, glaring out across the city absentmindedly.

"Why did you come back?" Faith asked the only thing that she wanted an answer to.

"Why not."

"Why now?"

"Why not."

Faith's head snapped round and the look she shot Buffy actually evoked something akin to nervousness for a moment, before the slayer quickly recovered.

"You seem awfully mad at me, Faith. What I do?" She pouted contemptuously.

Faith let out a hollow laugh.

"Oh you know." Her eyes were burning into Buffy from where she stood a good few feet away. "You know exactly what you did...and you...you just skip on over here like it never happened, like you've been on goddamn vacation! I waited! I told them-" Faith stopped her rant abruptly. She told herself it was because Buffy wasn't worth her anger. The stinging at the corners of her eyes was ignored as she wiped at her face quickly, regaining her composure. "Whatever." She sighed, "Do what you like. Stay. Don't stay. I really couldn't give a crap."

"Please. After that little primetime show you try to pull the tough girl act? Might be blonde but I'm not stu-pid." She sang, arching back on the table and sheathing her knife. "You care. You mucho care. I mean the bad girl persona is your entire shtick and you can barely pull it off anymore!" Buffy threw up her hands in exaggerated shock. "How will you cope without all those homicidal tendencies?"

"How will you walk with all of my foot up your ass?" The younger slayer shot back viciously.

There was a pause in which Buffy considered Faith's rhetoric.

"Better. But your best days are definitely behind you." She evaluated, shrugging her shoulders. Faith just looked away in disgust. The girl she'd grown to care for was long gone. Even so, she couldn't help wonder what Buffy had been up to all these months alone. _What the hell had she been doing? Where did she go? How was she still alive?_ Faith's mind raced at the possibilities before being dragged back to reality by Buffy's eerily calm monotone.

"You know what the kicker is, Faithy?"

Faith gave a half-hearted shrug, waiting. The smile on Buffy's face grew tenfold.

"You're scared of me."

The brunette's brow furrowed and she turned fully, arms crossed, to meet Buffy's accusation. "I'm...what?" Faith's tone was dangerously low.

"Scared. Of me." Buffy confirmed without the slightest touch of concern for the way her sister slayer was glaring venomously at her.

There was a pause in which Faith contemplated the pros and cons of throwing Buffy through the window. She shook her head and closed her eyes.

"I've had enough of this shit." She muttered to herself in angry defeat. Faith stormed over to the door, slamming it behind her, wanting to be as far from Buffy as possible.

* * *

It didn't take long for Buffy to appear alongside Faith in the corridor, matching her brisk stride step for step.

"You can't admit it can you, Faithy?" She noted happily. "I've spent enough time in my playground to know what scared little girls look like. Fear's as common as oxygen out there. And you stink of it." Buffy said excitedly, twirling the scythe around her fingers with glee.

"Better than what you smell of. No soap in your playground?" Faith bit back. She was forced to stop as she violently jabbed at the up button beside the elevator. She could feel Buffy watching her and returned the glance briefly; seeing nothing but dark secrets behind that childlike curiosity.

"Just admit it."

Faith didn't reply. Seething at the slowness of the elevator, Faith decided to use the stairwell instead. She climbed up the countless steps, Buffy in tow like a cat chasing its favourite mouse.

She exited onto her desired floor and stopped abruptly at a room, throwing open the door. Buffy scanned its interior with bored disinterest.

"And this is?"

"The place you get to sleep, eat and pray for tomorrow." Faith clarified with mock hospitality, gesturing like a game show host to the biggest prize. "You wanna cosy back up with the cool kids? Fine. You got a room. Welcome home. But if you know what's good for ya," Faith closed the distance between them, raising her index finger to within an inch of Buffy's face, "you'll keep yourself...and your crazy... to your god. Damn. Self!"

Buffy watched quietly as Faith marched down the corridor, her head cocked to the side as she viewed the girl with curiosity. A smile crept across her face and she slipped silently into her quarters and closed the door.

She hefted her backpack onto the basic bed pressed up against the farthest wall and unzipped one of the side pockets. She removed a wrinkled and torn piece of paper which she began to unfold carefully.

It was a large map of the United States of America and Buffy looked down at it in wonder, head cocked to the opposite side as she ran her fingers across the crinkled document. The entire Western coast had been crudely coloured in with dark purple crayon. A key, written just as crudely, at the bottom of the map showed that purple meant:

-Dead

Arizona and Nevada had been decorated the same way. Area's of bright red were also visible on the map. The key showed that red meant:

-In Danger

Dotted across these sections of red were numerous black arrows. The key disclosed that the arrows signified:

-Monsters

Buffy sat down on the bed, bringing her knees up underneath her as she took a box of children's colouring crayons from her backpack. Idaho, half of Montana and Utah were the states covered in red and she this was what she turned her attention to now. She cautiously darkened Idaho and half of Montana in purple. She then drew out a series of new arrows on the map with a thin, black crayon. Buffy leaned back to study her work and smiled. She was pleased. She'd barely had a chance to update it – scarcely had a quiet moment to herself like this one now. Finally, Buffy felt fulfilled to see her knowledge from the past few months coming to realisation on the map that rested on her knees.

Finally, every arrow from North, West and South was pointed towards Salt Lake City.


	5. The Boy Who Sees Everything

**The Boy Who Sees Everything**

**A.N: Thank you for your patience. All reviews and support for this fic mean a great deal to me. Chapter 6 won't be out for a good week as I have University work to be getting on with so I hope it's not too long of a wait. Enjoy chapter 5!**

**Several months ago.**

**Location: California, Sunnydale.**

Xander stood, sword drawn high, waiting in the atrium with Dawn by his side. Both watched the archway that sat innocently before them, unaware of the horrors that could come rushing through it at any given moment. However, if anything was on its way to slaughter him and Dawn he couldn't tell. There was nothing but the expected creaks and groans of an empty building. Xander swallowed hard and tightened his clammy grip around the handle of his long sword.

"It's been too long. Something's not right." He muttered aloud, eyes flickering back and forth down the long, shadow-filled corridor beyond the archway. The lean, young girl next to him shot a hopeful look that was marred by growing worry.

"M-maybe they're just taking their time. Running in their new slayer shoes, ya know? Squeaked Dawn as the nervous teenager glanced uncertainly at her sister's best friend. They both knew she was clutching desperately at straws.

The sound of a door swinging open and connecting loudly with a wall echoed down the passage towards them and made them both jump as they spun round to face whatever was approaching. They heard heavy, laboured footsteps, moving quickly and accompanied by shrill, panicked voices. And behind that, harder to pick up but growing in volume, was the bone-chilling choir of a hundred ferocious demons. Xander stood his ground, preparing himself for whatever might rear its ugly head around the corner.

He was both shocked and relieved when he saw Faith enter the atrium, bloodied and exhaling in ragged breaths. He noted with immense concern that she was supporting an extremely bloody Buffy; who limped alongside her, struggling to match Faith's pace. A dozen terrible questions filled his mind but he dared not ask one and discover the unsavoury answer.

"We need to exit this joint. Now." The barked command jolted Xander from his stupor and he lowered his weapon taking priority of escorting the alarmingly small number of surviving girls. Some of the potentials were also struggling to walk, never mind run, and he rushed over to help one keep up with the others. The unintelligible roar of sound grew louder still as the Turok-Han gained on them.

In all the confusion Xander had forgotten about Dawn and he watched with sadness as she gawked wordless at her defeated sibling. She made her way to the front, passing Xander, her sword long forgotten on the linoleum floor.

"Buffy! What happened to her? Is she okay?" She asked in fear, eyes trying to meet her sister's but the blonde seemed unable to see her; a glaze obscuring her vision as she stared ahead blindly.

"Not the time, Kid. Move it or lose it." Faith snapped. She seemed visibly shaken despite her facade of bravery. Or maybe she was shaking from anger. Hard to tell with that girl, Xander thought.

It didn't take long to reach the entrance they'd arrived through. As Xander guided girls out into the sunlight he stopped and realised something that practically stopped his heart.

"Faith! Wait! What about the others?" He referred to Giles, Wood, Andrew, his ex Anya and his best friend Willow. He felt idiotic for assuming they would know of this outcome and be making their own way here too. Faith looked just as annoyed at making the same mistake and promptly shouted back, "Go find 'em! Quickly!"

Xander didn't need to be told twice. He passed his injured potential on to another and sprinted back into the building, desperately trying to recall their locations. Seconds felt like minutes as he called out over and over again, as corridors that were once the home of budding students were now a terrifying, lonely maze echoing with the names of his friends and colleagues. The thunderous and violent din of the Turok-Han resonated through the labyrinth causing Xander to quicken his step in panic. There was a lump in his throat and he was beginning to lose track of where he was. He spun on the spot calling for Anya, Giles and Willow.

Then suddenly there was movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned and saw Giles helping a wounded Wood walk in his direction.

"We're leaving."

"I know." Giles replied darkly. Xander's eyes hovered on the spot where Wood's stomach bled freely down his pant legs.

"Where's Willow?" He demanded urgently, snapping back to reality. Giles stopped and his eyes widened behind his glasses.

"She wasn't with you?"

Xander instructed the Watcher to continue on to the exit as he continued to run deeper into the school, searching desperately for a sign of his friend. A wisp of red hair. That reassuring but shy smile. Anything.

Finally, after almost on the verge of tears, he saw her. If he hadn't done a double take he would have run right by her.

Willow sat on the floor, knees drawn up to her chin, back pressed against an ordinary wooden door. He could only assume it led to the room where she had performed the spell. Xander's relief was soon replaced with worry however, when seeing the silent stream of tears flowing freely down the Wiccan's forlorn face. He'd never seen her look so hopeless in all her life. Not when Oz left for Tibet, not even on the day he'd prevented her from ending the world.

"Willow?" He tried cautiously, kneeling down to help her up. "What's wrong?"

* * *

**Location: Utah, Salt Lake City.**

"Uh huh. Yes sir. Yes. Yes sir. Absolutely." Xander droned, struggling to keep track of all the demands being listed to him by the stoic tone of General Louis, who continued to grumble on through Xander's cell phone. The General never used the radio for matters of greatest importance. Xander took this to assume every matter was of astronomically great importance seeing as the General always contacted him by phone.

It was proving to be a long, exhausting day and Xander checked his watch as he made his way down a narrow, dark corridor that was cluttered with various crates and containers. The only light came from spindly candles sitting on the topmost crates and smelt unpleasant and earth, burning Xander's nostrils as he navigated awkwardly past them. The corridor's artificial lighting flicked on and off in random intervals as a loud, pulsating hum vibrated in the near darkness. With each rise and fall of the sound the lights followed suit. "Yes...I know, but- I understand sir but she-" Xander pinched at the bridge of his nose and closed his eye. "Okay, sir. I'll talk to her. Yes, sir. I'll do my best." Xander closed his cell phone and pocketed it.

"Why Xander, you do kiss ass with such admirable enthusiasm!" He simpered sarcastically. He continued down the empty, dark corridor and stubbed his toe on a small wooden chest. After a few choice curse words and several comical hops he proceeded. The humming was growing louder as he approached a set of double doors painted with a white pentagram. Numerous other strange and irking symbols littered the door, encircling the star that shone brightly despite the lack of natural light. He sighed, rapping his knuckles twice on the oak.

He heard muffled noises that sounded like arguing, then a singular voice got closer and Xander could just make out, "...this better be the supply guy with that wolf's bane or I swear to Hecate..." before the doors swung open and a small figure framed the open space. "Oh. It's just you. Fantastic. What do you want?"

"Hello to you too, Amy." Xander replied with barely restrained contempt to match her own. "So glad a personality reassessment wasn't included in the pact in which you help us and we don't ***kill*** you." He leaned in slightly near the end for emphasis but the witch merely gave him a scathing look and headed back into the room.

As Xander followed the short-tempered Witch into the fairly spacious room, he noted it seemed even darker than the passage he'd just walked down. The corners were impossible to distinguish past the murk of shadow; the only source of light emanating from a small circle of candles in the centre of the room that dispensed a meagre glow. Another glittering, white pentagram sat within the circumference of burning wicks. Oddly it appeared to hover just a inch off the carpet tiles, rotating slowly on the spot.

Amy went to join the two other people sat beside the mystical symbol. Their hoods masked their faces easily in the dark, but Dave the warlock looked up to smile and wave politely at Xander.

"David! Concentrate!" Amy snapped in a hushed tone, the atmosphere of the room creating a need for unnecessary whispering. When Xander noticed the third member wasn't his oldest friend he frowned.

"Where's Willow?"

"Where she always is." Amy said impatiently, lifting her hood back over her head after nodding towards a door he hadn't noticed through the fog of darkness and smoke. Smoke that smelt both acrid and sweet, causing Xander to wrinkle his nose as he worked his way to the newly discovered door and knocked gently before opening it.

"...not now, please just-" Willow abruptly stopped talking and she spun round to face who had entered. She seemed to be holding her breath.

Xander gave a warm smile and asked, "You okay, Wills?" He took note of the unorganised mess that was Willow's 'office'. Ancient and modern texts lay strewn around on desks in piles, littering the floor and stacked high on chairs. Scrolls lay carelessly about; either in bundles, tightly fastened or spread across a large table in the centre of the room.

"Hey. Yeah, I'm fine just..." Willow started breathlessly before pausing to take in the state of her place of work, "...occupied." She gave a weak smile whilst keeping a tight grip on the book she had held against her chest.

"Hakuna matata my Wicca friend." Xander had learnt the other 'W word' was forbidden around Willow. "We're all of the busy variety." He grinned empathetically and stepped further into the fairly accommodating space and closing the door; muffling the chanted words and weakening the strange smells. Xander leaned against the table closest to Willow and became aware of all the tiny notes and post-its attached to the numerous dog-eared documents and books. There must have been hundreds. Someone had been extremely busy.

"What is all this, Will? New pet project?" Xander asked with genuine curiosity.

"Oh, nothing much, just anything that helps, ya know?" She shrugged nonchalantly, the skirt of her dress swaying as she moved to sit beside him. She watched Xander's suspicion grow as he examined the sheer amount of knowledge she had been trying to work through and quickly followed her explanation with, "So you have something to tell me? Or is this one of your clingy checkups?" She slipped him an inquisitive and playful smirk.

"I'm not clingy!" Xander scowled at her, exaggerating the offense taken, "I just like to run a tight ship."

Willow couldn't stop the snort that escaped her. "Yes. Ship." She glanced sheepishly at Xander's eye patch and then opened her book and pretended to search for some vital piece of information. Xander narrowed his eye at her scathingly, annoyed at being bested by the witty redhead.

"Witch." It was worth the deathly glare she sent his way. "One of these days all the pirate jokes are gonna get old."

"And yet...we will always treasure them." Willow sighed with a passive shrug and glazed smile.

"Two things." Xander started grumpily, "Firstly, the roof exploded. And the general's on my ass asking why 'the pretty redhead's spells aren't doing their job'." Willow looked torn between revulsion and pride. "Sexual harassment charges aside, the guy's got a good point. I mean, no one died...well, Faith almost...and another guy was almost pulled over the edge by a heavy-petting demon...which actually reinforces the point." His brow furrowed as the events from earlier dawned on him. "Demons shouldn't be able to climb willy-nilly up this building right, Will? I mean...you've got a spell against that? An incantation or spooky voodoo, even?"

Willow bit her lip and looked very apologetic. "It somewhat...slipped my mind?" She offered meekly, wringing her hands against the cover of the book. Xander failed to stay stern under the pathetic gaze of Willow's puppy dog eyes. "As for the explodiness...I thought all my shield spells were at maximum but maybe I overlooked something. I'll check again for you. Promise. Wiccan's honour." She made the scout sign over her heart. "What's secondly?"

Xander couldn't help the huge smile that cut across his face, "Buffy's back."

The look of delighted surprise on his friend's face was the best thing he'd seen in months.

"She is? Well where is she? Is she okay? Did she eat well? Are her limbs still attached? Did she-," Willow blurted before being silenced by Xander's hand on her mouth. "Mm hmph fmph hmm?"

"She's fine." Xander promised, but kept his hand where it was. He hesitated with what to say next. "She's in one piece and that's all that matters." When Willow didn't appear to be about to erupt into another rant he released his gentle grip and dropped his hand to his side.

"So where is she now? Can I see her?" Willow asked hopefully, restraining the other thousand and one questions she wanted answers to.

"I got Faith to stay with her while she went to get a physical. Seemed the safest option."

"Faith?" Willow's tone and mood suddenly dropped dangerously low. "You got Faith...to watch over Buffy?"

Xander gave a casual nod, not seeing the big issue. "Like I said, safest option. If anyone can keep a slayer under control it's another slayer. It's slayer stalemate."

"Xand, I get that you and her are all 'friends forever' now...but after everything that happened...is it smart to put them together so soon?" Willow's arms had folded across her chest and she looked very apprehensive.

"Willow, she was fine. Faith's grown up. It's amazing really. She could of socked Buffy in the face at first sight, swore up a storm or just bailed on me. But she did the mature thing and swallowed her pride."

Willow sighed deeply and shook her head patronisingly. "Oh, Xander. Silly, gullible Xander."

"What? What I do this time?" His eyes darted from side to side as if worried his mistake would appear in the room.

"Do you really think she'd last five minutes in a room with a mentally unhinged Buffy?"

"She is ***not*** crazy." Xander stated firmly. Willow sighed and gently stroked his shoulder.

"Xander." She began, gaze fixed on the floor as she spoke, "Do you remember what she was like in the days before..." She paused, the words struggling to leave her lips. "...before her...breakdown?"

Xander was quiet for a long while and eventually she felt him nod silently. "Well, that was as close to crazy as you can get without gaining the membership badge. She's been out there for months. Seen...goddess knows what...I can't imagine the state of her mind right now. I didn't even sense her in the area. That should be warning enough that she's still not...herself." She paused again but Xander said nothing. "She hurt each of us, Xander. I know that." She continued after receiving no interruption, "But what she did to Faith, whatever it was...well you saw the mood she was in. She didn't talk for a month."

"I know." Xander finally said. He craned his neck to look at the girl beside him. "I'm just trying this new age thing called optimism." Willow smiled softly back at him. "Buffy's come back from worse. So I don't see how she can't from this." He stood and inhaled deeply, missing the frown that had appeared on Willow's face. She chose not to speak her mind.

"And what about Faith?" She asked instead. Xander chuckled to himself and shrugged.

"Unpredictable." His brow furrowed for a moment. "But I trust she'll do the right thing."

A loud hiss of static erupted from Xander and a muffled voice spoke from his chest. He reached subconsciously into the breast pocket to retrieve his radio. "This is Harris."

"Uh, sir...this is Private Blanks. You need to come down to the armoury...ASAP. We have a...situation." said a heavily distorted voice.

"What is it?" He asked wearily. In the company of Willow he'd briefly forgotten how exhausting today was proving to be.

"Miss Lehane has become, uh..." there was a loud disturbance in the background that distracted the soldier. Xander thought he heard shouting and the sound of something crashing around the facility, "...unstable. Definitely unstable."

"But I thought she was keeping watch on the girl who came in an hour ago? Buffy Summers?" He asked in confusion, feeling Willow's eyes burn into him.

"Uh, yeah. That's the other thing, sir..." The soldier hesitated during a long pause where he chewed over his next words. Xander felt his stomach sink uncomfortably.

"Where's Miss Summers, Blanks?" Xander asked slowly. The pause continued for a short moment before the soldier spoke again.

"We...don't...know." Another loud series of bangs and shouts distorted the line. "But Miss Lehane has made it pretty clear that when she finds her...she's going to kill her." He finished awkwardly.

"Shut up." Xander sulked as Willow shot him the smuggest 'I told you so' look possible by the constraints of human expression.


	6. Tipping Point

**Tipping Point**

**A.N: Sorry for the long wait. Chapter is fairly chunky so I hope it makes up for it. Reviews make this all worth it. Enjoy.**

**Several months ago.**

**Location: California, Beyond Sunnydale.**

A yellow bus hurtles down a dusty, deserted road.

A dozen girls lay dead or dying. Their leader catatonic.

Buffy continues to bleed through her bandages despite the pressure Faith applies in vain.

A broken witch, a joker jokeless without his lover, the wounded son of a dead slayer, an ex-watcher and two little girls still very alone in the big, bad world.

Such pitiful creatures.

The evil thing that sits innocently at the back row watches them with gleeful malice. Eyes so tired, distraught or bloodied they don't even notice the doppelganger smiling malevolently at their pain and piteous existence.

On they limp.

Always clinging so desperately to life.

The First's gaze lingers deliciously on the sight of a gravely injured Buffy.

No encore of her rising speeches. No glimmer of hope. Nothing but a shell of her former self.

And yet the other one fusses over her. The only one who seems alive on this bus of the damned and dead.

She thinks she's seen enough evil in her short life to brush this off. Breaking her will be a delicacy to be savoured. The First memorizes the moment. The fallen face of Buffy Summers. The determination of Faith Lehane.

It smiles and vanishes.

"To think," muses the First, "they almost stopped the party."

Still wearing the guise of Buffy, it turns to the sea of howling, chanting Turok-Han in the cavern below.

An impossibly wide grin stretches across the original evil's stolen face.

"Who's ready to start the end of the world?"

* * *

**Location: Utah, Salt Lake City.**

Xander had just reached armoury access, hurriedly punching in the code on the silver keypad as the doors slid open to unleash a brunette blur that almost collided with him.

An ill-tempered glare was thrown his way accompanied by a loud huff of exhaled air.

"You plannin' on movin' out the way anytime soon, G.I. Joe?" Faith asked dryly, shifting her weight onto one leg as she waited impatiently. She blew pale smoke idly out from between her lips, the cigarette pinched to one corner of her mouth, as both of Faith's hands were in the process of carrying what she'd taken from the armoury.

"You were smoking?" Xander asked with such disbelief that he practically squeaked the words, "In the place we keep all the things that go boom? Seriously, Faith? Do you want me to have an aneurism cus I'm pretty sure I'm due one." His hands worked their way agitatedly through his messy hair that had gained length over his time spent at H.Q – he'd rarely had an opportune time to have it cut. He was far too busy dealing with every problem, mishap and hiccup that involved the small troupe of friends he was a part of; case in point.

It occurred to Xander that the ancient strength coursing through the young woman before him was sufficient enough to utterly destroy his fragile mortal body along with his small amount of authority.

He wondered why he bothered. The General wasn't worth placating that badly.

"Don't worry your pretty head about it, Xand." Faith shrugged, assuming a look of innocence, "I'm all about health and safety." She snaked her way past him in the fairly narrow concrete corridor, deciding he wasn't about to budge anytime soon.

"Then why...for the love of sweet, bearded Jesus," Xander pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt the start of a migraine setting in, "...do you have a bazooka?"

"Hey, at least I'm cuttin' back to a pack a day." She smirked, arms outstretched, a chunky missile launcher balanced easily in one palm and a sizeable cache of ammunition cradled in the other. The joke did nothing to thaw Xander's icy glower that followed her as she attempted to back away to the stairwell.

"Avoiding the question." Xander pushed. They ascended the stairs together with Xander's one, tired eye probing Faith for the entire journey. After a short period of silence, disturbed only by the steady sound of their feet moving upward and the rattle of Faith's box of rockets, she finally let out a hiss of air and met her friend's penetrating gaze.

"You ain't gonna like any answer I give, so way I figure it? The less you know, the happier you'll be." Faith said with a sigh laced in sympathy. She stood defiant but her expression had softened as she awaited Xander's retort. He pushed the release on the exit door and held it open for Faith to walk out onto the roof.

"I was told you were going after Buffy." Xander said slowly, preferring to watch the pilots of a helicopter prep it for takeoff rather than look the slayer in the eye.

"Oh, come on! How short a leash you want me on, Xand? I've been a good girl since breakout. Cut me some slack!""

"Faith I'm not joking around here, you can't-!"

"Hey, idiot." Faith snapped suddenly. "If I was going after Princess Peach, do you _**really**_ think I'd need a damn bazooka to finish the job?"

Xander opened his mouth to speak then closed it. He rubbed the back of his neck as he stared abashedly at his boots.

"Exactly, genius." Faith admonished, but her tone playful.

"But the guard said..." Xander began then drifted off not wanting to say something else that would increase the depth of the foot already in his mouth.

"That if I saw her I'd kill her. Yeah. It was a figure of speech. Emphasis on the 'if' part. I left her in a free room and not ten minutes later she's gone." Faith explained defensively.

"You left her by herself?" Xander rounded on Faith, but quickly calmed down when he received a look that could kill.

"She pissed me off! Kind of a given she'd manage to one way or another. You clued in on our history or do you need a refresher?"

"...No." Xander mumbled sulkily. There was a pause followed by, "Still not getting the deal with the heavy weaponry."

Faith frowned in a way that made her whole face darken noticeably.

"Oh, right. Good thing you reminded me..." She reached into the back pocket of her black jeans; Xander noted that both her knees were visible where the denim had become tattered and worn away. His eyes readjusted to what she had thrust in front of him. It appeared to be a stained piece of paper folded roughly into a square.

"I didn't find B but I found her handiwork. Scared the crap outta me." Faith admitted truthfully, resting momentarily against the short wall that ran along the edge of the building. She watched Xander carefully unfold the overused document. The sheet's breadth was wider than Xander's torso and he had to hold it out to see it clearly. "Don't look so crazy now do I?" Faith quipped rhetorically, shaking her missile container vigorously for emphasis.

"You know we can't just take things out of the armoury without proper training and permission, right?" Xander asked slowly, wondering if there was any point in trying to instil a sense of rules and regulations within the wild force of nature beside him. Faith made a loud dismissive sound.

"Didn't stop me the first dozen times..." She muttered with a roll of her eyes.

"What?"

"Nothing." Faith said quickly, avoiding his gaze. She tapped her fingers along the shaft of the large hollow tube, filling the awkward silence with a metallic echo. Xander's highly suspicious stare gave way to his continued inspection of the map. His face looked glum.

"You should have shown me this, Faith..." He said quietly.

"Showin' you it now ain't I?" Faith threw back unaffected. "...'sides, didn't think it'd be the best idea to wave this around in front of the boys 'n' girls working for Uncle Sam."

"Good point. We don't want things to go into meltdown."

"Not just a pretty face after all." Faith said giving the biggest of smirks. She seemed relieved to know she'd made the right decision; it was a rare occurrence.

"So, Buffy?" Xander pried, shaking Faith out of her self-satisfied stupor. She looked back at him blankly.

"Yeah?"

"You wanna tell me where she is?"

"Hell if I know, Harris." Faith shrugged as she slung the bazooka over her shoulder with ease, "Maybe she checked herself in." She suggested with a lopsided grin and mischievous glint in her eye. "Catch you later, big guy."

Xander frowned as he watched her backtrack across the elevated walkway that stretched across to the LDS office building. He stood, arms folded tightly to his chest, as he watched the slayer grow smaller before she disappeared through the steel doors. Xander remembered how he'd helped renovate and construct them when they'd first come here. Whenever that was – he'd lost track of time.

He shook away dark thoughts and looked to the horizon. The sun was setting. It's pathetic glow through the misty red sky steadily dimming. It would be night within the hour; the city would go dark and the day patrols would return. Then as the last sliver of light sunk behind the mountain peaks and the sky morphed into a murky, bloody red, the attacks would begin in earnest.

Every night.

Xander let out a long sigh that left his lips as a hollow groan. His arms finally fell from his chest and he unfurled the fingers of his left hand as he straightened out Buffy's disturbingly childish map. Revelling in what this simple document illustrated was terrifying. A lesser man would have run and never turned to look at the faces of those that chased him. Instead, Xander made his way to the General's quarters.

* * *

Faith closed the door to her room and pressed her back against it as a deep, drawn out sigh escaped her parted lips. Her eyes shut tightly, brow furrowing the way it always did when she was trying to control the score of emotions and thoughts colliding within her. She stepped away from the door and dropped her heavy merchandise carelessly on the bed. She reached down to the divan and pulled out a drawer the length and width of the bed itself. Its contents were row after row of various forms of weaponry; knives, axes, swords and an alarming collection of military firearms. Everything was organised in a way that complimented the layout of the collaboration of weapons.

Faith smiled gently as she picked up a custom made sawn-off shotgun she'd found in a Guns 'n' Ammo store back in L.A. Her fingers traced the embossed skull that decorated the varnished wood of the gun's grip.

"Hello, beautiful..."

"Hi." said a soft voice in Faith's right ear.

"SHIT!" Faith jumped a foot in the air, almost dropping her prized gun in the process. She spun round to see the culprit of a near heart attack, almost letting loose a feral growl at being caught so completely off guard. Her eyes narrowed at the figure bathed in shadow. A flash of white and a flicker of gold revealed a smile full of false charm accompanied by unkempt filthy blonde tresses. "What the hell, Buffy! What's wrong with you?" Faith accused, clutching at her chest.

"You took my map." Buffy simply replied. Faith's hands were forming fists without the slightest provocation.

"Yeah? You broke into my room. I'd say we're even." She spat in return. The days she feared and respected this girl were over; despite what Buffy seemed to think inside her deluded little head.

Buffy stared on with a glazed expression, fixed on some imaginary vanishing point that passed through Faith and far into the distance. She played with a dirty lock of her hair as the seconds ticked away slowly in the eerie silence.

Faith – not known for her patience – made a scathing remark under her breath and set to work arming herself as she'd planned originally.

She clipped the holster of her shotgun to her right thigh and stowed the gun inside. She took two belts off shotgun shells and slung them over her shoulders. Faith kicked the drawer closed and turned to get a few stakes from her weapons chest, before realising the person she was ignoring was sitting contentedly on top of it.

"Move." Faith ordered as she approached the chest. Buffy only smiled and swung her feet. Her heels banged loudly on the large, wooden chest.

"Move or I'll make you move." Faith was close enough to make out the web of scars across the girl's petite features. She still looked her delicate, beautiful self but her volatile lifestyle was no longer a secret. It was etched across her face and body as a testament to the violence and pain she'd endured. It almost made Faith waver.

"Say please..." Buffy goaded quietly, nose scrunching up as she smiled wickedly and added, "Or don't murderers have manners?"

Faith responded by plunging her knife into Buffy's stomach and blowing her skull across the wall, watching as her body slumped pathetically to the floor.

"Well?"

Faith snapped back to reality and fixed Buffy with a blank, distant look. For a long moment Buffy just watched her with amused curiosity as Faith seemed at a loss for words. She slowly reached for a chair beside her and in one swift motion – smashed it down hard against the chest; inches from where Buffy sat. She picked up the 3 sharpest points of broken wood.

"I'm not scared of you."She finally said just above a whisper. "I just hate being anywhere near you."

Faith didn't stay long enough to see how Buffy reacted to her last remark. She assumed the deranged blonde hadn't even batted an eyelid. Unbeknownst to the younger slayer, if she'd stayed, if she'd hoped to relish in some ounce of pain inflicted, Faith would have witnessed Buffy flinch.

* * *

"Harris." General Louis greeted Xander in his usual gruff tone, acknowledging his presence in the room as he continued to shuffle through a pile of files and images scattered on the desk directly in front of him.

"Sir." Xander still wasn't use to calling people by that title. He never sounded sincere enough.

"Are you the barer of good or bad news this afternoon my little honorary soldier?" the General asked in a tone dripping with thinly veiled mockery, his face still hadn't risen from its examination of various pieces of information. Xander tensed for a moment then let his irritation ebb away.

"Depends on your definition I guess." He responded carefully. The stern, hardened visage of the seated man finally rose to look at Xander. General Louis' hair was short and dark with flecks of silver at his temples. His skin appeared rough and weathered by time and the things he'd seen. A faint scar across his wide nose showed it had once been badly broken. Xander assumed this was a wound inflicted during a human conflict and not the work of some otherworldly demon. His dull blue eyes bore into Xander in the same way Giles' used to; the look that spoke of wisdom beyond Xander's years and issued a silent respect. However, unlike the Watcher, Louis was much less compassionate and a whole heap more menacing. Xander willed himself not to gulp as he stared the General down.

"Sit, son. No point in standing there like a useless doorstop." The man growled with a humorous glint in his eye. Xander did as instructed, trying his best to look at ease. "You find out what's goin' on with the Witch's hocus pocus?" He asked absentmindedly as he leafed through another report.

"One: pretty sure she'd find that racist. Or...wiccaphobic." Xander said as he counted off his fingers, "And two: she seemed certain that everything was running smoothly. She promised to check on it though."

"Good." Louis grumbled with minimum interest. "We can't afford slip ups like the one today. We were lucky. This partnership only works when both everyone turns the gears of the clock."

Oh god, not the clock analogies again, Xander thought exasperatedly to himself.

"Of course, Sir." He replied with a wry smile. "I'm sure she just had an off day."

The General mumbled something but didn't go into detail. A moment passed in silence before he spoke again.

"The blonde. Who is she?" He asked bluntly, searching Xander's face for any sign of recognition. Xander blanched and straightened up in his chair, torn between excitement and apprehension.

"She's a friend. A really good...trustworthy, amazing friend." Xander started. He hastily added, "Who's-is-only-a-little-bit-crazy." He gestured a small amount between his thumb and index finger. "But she can fight! Boy can she fight. A killer of monsters and the like – a slayer if you will."

"Huh." Was the General's only reply. Xander didn't continue with details. The less the man knew about Buffy and the events after the battle with the First the better. "Well we can use all the friends we can get. Crazy or otherwise."

"Oh?" Xander inquired with concern. Louis exhaled slowly and paused before handing Xander a satellite image of what looked like a generic city layout. The image appeared to be in infrared. A large, almost perfect circle, of bright red covered the majority of the city.

"That's Cleveland." Louis explained. "Are you aware it has a Hellmouth like the one in Sunnydale, California?"

Xander nodded without noticing, his eye unable to look away from the photo he'd been handed.

"Major activity was reported at approximately 1200 hours yesterday. It's getting hotter by the hour and our experts seem to think its prime to blow." Xander said nothing. He passed the document back to the General and looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. "I need not tell you that if this comes to pass..." Louis' interlocked fingers flexed on his desk as he stopped to find the right words, "...the fan will indeed be covered in shit."

Xander couldn't help the small smile that pulled at his lips.

"So what exactly do we do in a worst case scenario?" he asked darkly.

"Pray." Louis half-joked. He shrugged, leaning back in his leather chair, "It'll be impossible to keep under wraps. The unexplainable and implausible coming out from two directions. My men, the entire National Guard and Special Ops combined are spread too thin as it is." He admitted bitterly. "There's no denying we've lost the West Coast. It's been decimated." Xander paled further at hearing this. His knowledge of what the First and its minions had done was limited to his own distant experiences back in Sunnydale. "We've got thirty million refugees and a hundred rumours of the cause. Cleveland blows and we end up with a scenario that's a legitimate national disaster."

"Try apocalypse."

"Right. You said you and your friends experienced a few of those firsthand." Louis said thoughtfully, "Makes a tour in the Gulf sound like a tea party."

"Anyway," General Louis sighed, seeming to want a change of topic, "Got anything positive to share from your band of merry monster slayers?"

Xander let out a harsh laugh. He rubbed tiredly at his face and reached into his pocket.

"I almost don't want to show you what my crazy best friend drew on her vacation."


	7. Blood & Dust

**A.N: Sorry for the bit of a wait. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter.**

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* * *

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**Blood And Dust**

_**Salt Lake City**_

A solitary vehicle drove slowly along the deserted street that led to the compound's main gates. Since patrols were carried out in pairs it was never a good sign to see a patrol car missing its companion. The lone vehicle – a standard hummer rigged to be efficient at killing things of the paranormal persuasion – rolled past the checkpoint as the gates creaked back into place. Its UV headlights burnt brilliantly through the stifling, darkness that had fallen on the city and its few brave inhabitants. The glaring light cut across the entrance to the tallest building within the base to reveal a reclining figure leaning beside it. The figure approached the vehicle as it crawled to a stop on the dusty asphalt. The driver's side window rolled down and Faith leant on the frame as she peered into the jeep with a smirk.

She grabbed Wood by the back of the neck and forced him forward into a searing kiss that left the marine next to him staring in envious awe. Faith surreptitiously watched the reaction on the soldier's face with relish; eventually pulling away and tugging Robin's bottom lip between her teeth for good measure.

"Man's risking his life, stud." Faith purred in a husky tone. "Gotta give him something to look forward to at the end of the day." She winked. The soldier coughed and made a hasty exit towards the barracks. Wood chuckled deeply and stroked one of Faith's hands affectionately, receiving the usual patronising head rub from the Slayer in return as she leaned in further.

An ominous dark stain caught Faith's eye. She stiffened. Wood said nothing as he got out of the jeep, forcing her to step away. Faith's eyes flickered to Robin with accusatory concern. The back seat of the jeep had been caked in blood. The smell of it was now overpowering to her keen senses. She realised this was in part due to the worryingly large blood stain also adorning Robin's shirt.

"That's alotta the red stuff." Faith muttered out loud to herself. The strange, far-off cries of countless creatures echoed in the still night air. The melody had started up a few minutes ago, as it did every night, and was a helpful pre-emptive warning of the dangers approaching.

"Don't worry – none of it's mine." Wood smiled briefly before giving a more sombre look, "Jacob wasn't so lucky."

"Shit." Faith breathed quietly, her hands resting on her hips, "The other crew too?" She asked looking back up at Wood hopefully even though the second patrol car was nowhere in sight.

Wood nodded solemnly.

"Something big hit us on the outskirts of town. We didn't see it till..." Wood paused for a moment, reliving some memory he'd rather forget, "It didn't end well." Faith placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. This whole relationship deal was new territory and the actions and words that came along with it were gradually wearing off on Faith. A gurgling roar of unknown origin pierced the poignant silence between them. Faith could feel that they were both itching to get inside.

"'least you're okay, cue ball." She joked affectionately. Robin smiled back and slung the strap of his rifle over his shoulder.

"Appreciate the gratitude for my ongoing survival." He deadpanned, "Anything new on your end?"

Faith's expression was unreadable for a long, tense moment. She shifted her weight agitatedly.

"I wouldn't say new." Faith breathed, "A familiar pain in the ass, but not new."

* * *

"It's for practice!" Faith exclaimed for the umpteenth time, struggling to keep her voice low. Wood had been berating her for the past hour on her new rocket-propelling companion. He seemed to think she'd do more damage to herself than anything else and she wasn't impressed by his lack of faith. Her name really was an enormous irony she thought, blowing a circle of smoke out the window.

"At least put out the damn cigarette, Faith." Robin begged. Faith cocked an eyebrow and scoffed.

"What, you Xander's parrot now?" She bit off. After a moment she snorted and added, "Though you'd be better as his peg leg."

Robin stared in befuddled silence. He opened his mouth then closed it, deciding he was better off not knowing.

"Well don't say I didn't warn ya. If you accidently blow off that pretty face don't come cryin' to me." He teased, moved to the other corner bordering the same wall Faith was situated beside.

"Cus you'd just hate to see this baby go, right?" Faith wriggled her eyebrows excessively towards him in the darkened space.

They had ascended the LDS office building to a particular spot the Bostonian was fond of – an office on the south side of the 8th floor. Its window panes had long been obliterated in previous stand offs – most involving Faith herself. She claimed it was a sniper's paradise. Wood wasn't sure when Faith had decided to declare herself a born again crack-shot, but arguing about her delusions of grandeur wouldn't end well. She'd obviously been releasing her mounting inner tension through this newfound medium; better through bullets in demon's skulls than fists through irritating co-workers, Robin thought.

The demonic cacophony outside had grown in volume. The shrieks and howls of unseen things reverberated through the night unpleasantly. Spotlights on the roof – aimed to the outer limits of the wall – scanned for any trace of movement. Faith flicked her dying cigarette out the window, shouldered her bazooka and fired. A loud hissing roar sent a plume of smoke out one end and a rocket out the other. It found its target easily. Pieces of Noborak demon rained to the area of flooded light thirty feet away.

"Nicely done." Robin praised as he cocked an automatic machine gun and fired a loud series of rounds into a Sloth beast. The hulking thing collapsed to the ground with a dying grunt. "And outdone." He smirked coolly.

"Oh you _**wish**_, Shaft." Faith dismissed him, rolling her eyes.

At some point in their competitive shooting gallery, Willow had appeared in the doorway and wandered quietly over to watch them. Faith had practically jumped out of her skin when she finally noticed her. She thought she'd seen a ghost.

Willow gave no signal that she'd been acknowledged.

"You cool, Will?" Faith asked with growing concern as she got to her feet. Willow's pale, poignant expression was just visible in the unlit room. "Willow?" She pressed, beginning to feel distressed by her friend's silence.

"Mm?" She murmured. Her eyes flitted to Faith without focusing.

"You don't look so hot. Something wrong?" Faith tried again. She put the back of her hand to Willow's forehead. It felt normal as far as her medical expertise stretched.

"She asked if I missed her. Then she asked if...I missed...Kennedy more." Willow said, her voice tripping over the last few words. Faith's brow furrowed in confusion until realization finally dawned on her.

"Buffy. Great. I bet she was subtle as a brick, huh?"

Willow simply nodded while Faith stroked her thumb across her shoulder. This was an act of kindness the Slayer once wouldn't have understood let alone attempted. But times change; Faith had figured a while back that her trust and people issues were insignificantly petty in the shadow cast by the end of the world.

"So she's really back." Robin noted the dark circles under Willow's eyes and looked out the window, unsure of how to act in her presence. Kennedy's death was no more tragic than the deaths of anyone else lost on that day, but the effect it had had on Willow served as a reminder for all of them. Usually she would remain stoic and calm in front of her friends to keep them sane in these difficult times. But it was no secret that, alone, Willow was a wreck and one bad day away from going veiny and evil.

Looking at the fragile girl now, Faith saw someone closer to suicide than mass, magical genocide. She sniffed pathetically and the Slayer was irked enough to decide she had to do something to console the girl.

"Hey Babe, can you cover for me? Gonna see if I can turn Red's frown upside down." Robin nodded in wordless understanding and she flashed him a thankful smile.

After a stroll around the corridors, consisting mostly of listening to Willow explain what had happened, Faith sat Willow down in one of the better furnished rooms of the complex. It had two adequate couches, a book shelf with only half the shelves filled and a water cooler that had been neglected and appeared empty. Willow dabbed at her eyes with an already damp tissue as she sat on the couch; Faith perched herself on the armrest pensively musing over what the witch had told her.

At some point this evening, Buffy – generous gift giver that she was – had decided it the optimum time to seek out her best friend and harass her over a subject everyone else knew to leave well enough alone. Faith had to wonder if Buffy was intentionally trying to piss off her closest and dearest or if she couldn't help it. Maybe her sister slayer had gone so far down the rabbit hole she'd never climb back out. Deep down, behind her anger and pride, she felt a stab of sadness at this likelihood.

Her gloomy thoughts were brushed aside as she spotted Xander moving quickly past their room along the hallway. She called his name and beckoned him in. Faith began to explain the circumstances with Willow only to be interrupted.

"I know, I know." Xander said exasperated. He appeared even more tetchy than usual. He hesitated then moved to sit beside Willow and held her in a one armed hug. It was good to see he was still the goofy, kind-hearted friend beneath the soldier machismo, Faith thought. She sat quietly as Xander tried his best to cheer up his shell-shocked best friend.

"Don't worry, Wills." Xander said gently, coming to the end of his pep talk, "I'll talk to her. I'm sure she didn't mean what she said. As soon as she comes back I'll-"

"What do you mean _**'as soon as she comes back'**_?" Faith asked sharply, her head suddenly snapping round to look at Xander. He slouched slightly, propping his head up with one palm.

"She jumped the fence." He mumbled with a tired shrug. Faith's eyes darkened as her brow fell into a frown of disbelief.

"Of course she did." Faith let out a sigh tantamount to months of frustration and repressed anger. She made a fist with her free hand and her knuckles cracked loudly. After a mixture of exchanged looks in awkward silence between the three of them, Faith added, "I'll go."

"Faith..." Xander started but she put a hand up to stop him, moving so swiftly down the hallway towards the elevator that he had to jog to catch up. "She can handle herself. She managed without us for this long; I doubt one night's going to kill her!"

"You saw what little Miss Crazy drew." Faith reminded him, piercing his resistance with a hard look. "We don't know what's out there. I'm thinking the odds are stacked high and nowhere near in our favour."

"What's makes you say that?"

"Oh, just a trend I've noticed lately." Faith shrugged sarcastically. She checked her shotgun was loaded and slipped it back in its holster. Her favourite dagger was drawn in her left hand and Xander could see she was determined to go through with this. "Warn up top that I'm going out. There's enough ways to die out there without a cap in my ass slowing me down."

"Fine," Xander sighed in defeat, "Just watch your back, okay?"

"Who wouldn't?" Faith teased huskily with a wink thrown his way. Xander broke into a wide grin despite himself. Leave it to Faith to disperse the dread and nerves associated with stepping beyond the compound's walls via sexual innuendo.

"I don't get it." He said, raising his eyebrow incredulously and causing Faith to stop the doors to listen, "You've had not one good word to say about Buffy since ground zero. Why do you suddenly care if she lives or dies?"

"I don't." She shrugged calmly.

"Then why try to save her?" He asked, confused.

"Cus if I didn't I'd be a hypocrite." Faith's lopsided grin disappeared behind the closing elevator doors.

* * *

It felt exhilarating to be free from the cage she'd lived in for almost three months. After spending over two gruelling years in prison Faith discovered that a high-security, military organised compound brings back all kinds of unwanted nostalgia. To be beyond the fences, responsibilities and anxious faces that had dogged her for weeks. Maybe Buffy's reappearance had been the last shove over the edge; maybe it was just a good excuse. Nevertheless, guided by the vague glow from the red sky and her supernatural intuition, Faith ran head on through the streets; willing something to attack her. Her silent prayers were answered immediately.

A Turok-Han charged at her from the left, snarling and smiling sickly in the red night. Faith span with full force as a stake sailed perfectly from her open hand to the chest of the ancient vampire. The Turok-Han paused in its advances, examining the wood protruding from its chest with mild surprise. It leered back up in time to find Faith's foot connecting with the end of her stake with such force that it erupted out the demon's back. Faith waved away the dust as she walked through her belated foe, tugging her stake from the wall it had become stuck in. She definitely wasn't rusty.

She spun the stake effortlessly in her flat palm and caught it sharp end down. Faith grinned smugly – shortly before being tackled off her feet and unceremoniously smacking her face on the ground. Gritting her teeth in fury Faith twisted her body 180 degrees and delivered a vicious kick to her attacker's abdomen. They were sent sprawling to the ground as Faith leapt to her feet, landing purposefully a few feet away onto the second Turok-Han's chest. It grunted and then let out an open-mouthed snarl. Faith responded by shoving the business end of her sawn-off shotgun into its mouth and firing both barrels.

Faith rode the corpse to the ground as it turned to dust. Two more Turok-Han appeared from the shadows growling lowly.

"A three way's fine with me." Faith drawled, enjoying the adrenaline and satisfaction left over from her first two encounters. Several more Turok-Han hovered hesitantly in the dense shadows around her.

"Oh don't be shy, boys! More the merrier!" Faith jeered, smiling wildly. She reloaded her shotgun, pumping it loudly. "Who's first?"

* * *

After about ten minutes Faith received a reprieve from the undead onslaught. It was long enough for her to catch her breath and wipe the layer of sweat, dust and blood that now coated any expanse of bare skin. Faith pulled at the slashed remains of her black top and sighed angrily. Faith suddenly realised how far she'd strayed from the military headquarters. The comforting sounds from which friends and reinforcement existed were now distant and less uplifting. She was alone in the dark, abandoned city.

A sharp sensation suddenly cut through Faith's entire body and she struggled to stay standing. Doubling over slightly, she winced, recognising the feeling immediately.

"Buffy?" She hissed just above a whisper. She wasn't about to shout her whereabouts to the entire inhabitants of a demon-infested city. "Buffy!"

Unfortunately Faith's slayer connection led her into the path of something else.

Faith heard him before she saw him. A horribly familiar laugh. A laugh like the hiss of a thousand serpents carried on the cold wind that rattled her bones. Faith let herself believe it was the stiff breeze that sent a shiver down her spine. Before she could locate her least favourite assassin the sharp whistle of a throwing knife cutting through the still night air forced Faith to flip sideways out of its path. She growled impatiently, brushing dirt and dust off herself as she stood defiant.

"Show yourself you cowardly prick!" Her voice echoed eerily into the dark. "I owe you a face lift of the fatal variety."

She got no reply and was left with the various unsettling cries and calls of what lurked in the remote darkness – broken by the occasional burst of gunfire or whisper of a rocket followed by its muffled impact. Beneath the background noise Faith could just make out the deft, dashing footsteps echoing faintly around her.

She inhaled deeply and shut her eyes, arms dropping to her sides but both weapons at the ready. She listened. She waited.

Her instincts led her arm up steadily to point at the remains of an apartment block at her two o'clock. Faith didn't hesitate. The shot rang out loudly into the empty street and an angry something cursed colourfully down at her. She opened her eyes in time to see the assassin drop to the ground, crouching to cushion the fall, before leaping towards her with murderous intent. She dodged his dagger and the kick aimed at her stomach that followed, blocking the fist destined for her face, twisting the arm behind the owner's back before backhanding the assassin across the face. She'd had her dagger drawn and managed to leave a deep gash across the left cheek of the demon. The assassin touched the cut and stared at the bloody imprint left on his fingers.

"N'aww. Now we match!" Faith goaded in mock-joy. The assassin hissed and lunged at her with incredible new ferocity. Faith had to duck, dodge and roll her way out of a barrage of lightning fast attacks and barely missed a second throwing knife to the chest.

Gasping slightly for breath she regained her fighting posture only to take an uppercut to the chin and be sent hurtling into a wall. Blinking away the tears brought on by the pain in her jaw, Faith pushed herself off the wall only to have to dive to the side a second later as the assassin pinned her to the wall, his dagger only grazing her shoulder when its target had been her heart.

Faith struck the dagger hand with an open palm causing the demon to reel back and let go of the weapon. She tugged it roughly out of the wall behind her and threw it effortlessly into what she assumed was the assassin's heart. It dropped to its knees, clutching at the dagger's handle.

Faith sighed, bracing herself on the wall as she tried to regain her strength. The window of vulnerability was enough and before she could even kick herself, the dagger that had previously been in the assassin's chest was now taut against her throat.

"You misssssed!" hissed an unnatural voice in her ear as she was restrained across the chest by a rigid, bony arm. The stench of smoke and sulphur filled her lungs and Faith almost gagged.

"Sorry, I don't take it from behind." Faith jibed humourlessly, snapping her head back into the assassin's face. The impact was accompanied by a satisfying crunch and howl of pain. Faith turned quickly to see the demon stumble back, clutching its face as bright, blue blood trickled through its elongated fingers. The assassin slowly removed them, revealing its busted nose – which Faith considered an improvement to its overall appearance – and pointed one long index finger in her direction.

"Losssst little sssslayer all by herssself." It hissed with that unnervingly wide smile. Up close he was skeletal in appearance, his skin and sinew wrapped tightly to the bone, eyes glaring out from deep, sunken sockets.

"Don't worry Skeletor – I eat my carrots. I'll find my way back after I'm finished guttin' you like a fish." Faith replied coolly as she took a menacing step forward. The assassin countered, moving back and keeping the distance between them. He waggled the accusing index finger from side to side.

"Two of you and yet you're _**all**_ alone." The assassin continued with unrestrained glee. He slunk into the shadows with incredible speed and Faith heard him dashing off across the rooftops. His laugh echoed in her ears as Faith stood forlornly in the street; with only her bitter thoughts for company.

* * *

Faith spent close to another hour searching for Buffy through the streets, guided only by the morbid glow of the red sky and the occasional fire that still flickered within architectural skeletons. Turning a corner, Faith headed stealthily down a new juncture only to be stopped abruptly when she collided with an unseen wall.

Disoriented, lost and aching from her previous fight she attempted to pass around it.

Then it moved.

Faith gulped. Her eyes slowly scaled the height of the vertical surface in front of her. It seemed to disappear up into the darkness like the rest of the buildings around her. But it was moving, it was definitely moving – and in her direction. Backing up Faith slowly placed two fresh shells into her shotgun, flinching at the loud click as she pumped the weapon. Aiming as high as her sanity was willing to permit she fired at what she assumed was head height.

In the flash of discharged buck, Faith recoiled from what was thrown momentarily into light before it plunged back into darkness. A haunting, melodic roar shook the foundations of every structure nearby. Apparently the monstrosity making its slow but steady way towards Faith didn't like buckshot.

A long, tree-sized tendril of leathery muscle whipped out violently from the darkness, batting Faith easily across the street into an adjacent store front. She cried out in pain as her body met solid brick with incredible force. She crumpled to the ground trying to get her breath back only to be smashed by another similar, powerful appendage; this time from the right. Faith yelped in pain and fear, struggling to get to her feet furiously. An immobile mass of muscle thrashed out again, this time pinning her to the cracked tarmac.

Faith put all her effort into pushing the mass off her so as not to suffocate. It took all her remaining strength to keep it inches from the rise and fall of her chest. Her shotgun lay harmlessly some distance from her pinned form. Faith's heart thundered loudly in her ears with the rush of blood.

And then it skipped a beat completely. She recoiled again, whimpering in a way she'd never admit to if she lived through this, watching the impossibly elongated head of her monster slowly descend on a long, broad neck. Infinite teeth. Numerous coal-black eyes glinted in a light that didn't exist. Its jaws widened until the red sky above was replaced by a maw of unfathomable size.

"Well..." Faith choked out through strained breaths, "...what are you waiting for you ugly, motherless fu-?"

The thing lunged downward before she could finish.


	8. Against The Tide

**A.N: Really sorry for the wait; I've been busier than I usually am! I left you on a cliff hanger, cruel I know. If it's any consolation this is the longest chapter so far. The next two following chapters will be exclusively flashbacks and will give some insight to what happened between Faith and Buffy. You will get the fuffy you so sorely want. In the meantime enjoy this chapter. As always, thanks for all the great feedback. Your thoughts and feelings on this story are always appreciated.**

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* * *

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**Against The Tide**

**Location: Somewhere in Salt Lake City**

Through bleary, unfocused eyes Faith gazed upward at stars for the second time in twenty four hours. They shimmered brilliantly around an immense, yawning vacuum that seemed to move and glisten within itself.

The sky shifted rotating the stars sideways and Faith realised she was staring into the mouth of a monster.

A hiss of air escaped her lungs as the slayer gasped in shock then winced as her chest protested against her need to breathe. A coughing fit racked her body and Faith was pretty sure she'd broken a rib or three as each cough caused her to recoil in agony. Her mouth tasted dry and metallic. Every muscle ached and it dawned on her that she had a very large, very heavy and – apparently – recently deceased monster lying on top of her. Faith grunted as the exertion required to push herself out from under the tendril of the mammoth beast; now limp and lifeless but weighing only slightly less without its owner pushing her down. Through gritted teeth and her last ounce of strength Faith managed to wriggle her way out from under the creature, watching wearily as the hideous head rolled further away with her movement. It had been separated messily from its slender, scaly neck; as if someone had hacked at it with feral ferocity.

In her new position, through the dirt and sweat that blurred her vision, Faith saw a figure standing upright and still upon the body of the fallen creature. The stranger was looking in the opposite direction and their reserved attire made it impossible to work out their identity.

The sudden hum emanating from inside her chest was now noticeable, having been masked by the aches and pains riddled through Faith's body. This, and the glint of a shiny, silvery axe head, clued Faith in on the face of her saviour. She internally groaned.

"Buffy to the rescue." She muttered bitterly, as if death would have been preferable to the elder slayer's assistance. "That record never gets old."

She slowly pushed herself up into a mostly comfortable sitting position. Buffy's head had snapped round at the sound of her voice and Faith was receiving an odd, wide-eyed look from the slayer.

"Gonna lend me a hand here or would you rather I stick around for something else to take a bite?" Faith asked curtly as she gestured out with one hand.

"Uh..." Buffy's mouth hung open as if her mind weighed the options. "Sure." She finally said, moving close enough to clasp her fingers around the disgruntled girl's wrist, pulling Faith to her feet. She immediately stumbled and Buffy was forced to catch her with honed reflexes to prevent her fellow slayer landing face forward on uneven, broken concrete.

"Thanks." Faith, abashed, averted her eyes upward to a sea of carmine clouds swirled with the smoke of burning earth and stone; cutting out all natural light. Faith could barely make out her hand in front of her face; the sky had apparently darkened in the time she was incapacitated. Despite this she didn't want to have to look Buffy in the eye at such close proximity.

"What are you doing?" Faith was forced to shoot a puzzled look at Buffy's blunt question. She gestured to their current environment and added, "Out here."

Faith snorted and instantly regretted it for the pain it caused to rattle through her chest.

"Excuse me, Princess?" Faith replied hoarsely, spitting blood on the jagged remnants of the street as she began to feel her self control falter. "You've got some nerve-" Faith stopped abruptly as she took in the sight of the bedraggled blonde. She blinked and wiped at her eyes with the back of her arm, wrinkling her nose in bemusement. "Why are your feet...commando?"

Buffy was in the same filthy red jersey and baggy, camouflaged cargo pants she'd arrived in. However, her combat boots were missing. Buffy was standing atop a gargantuan demon's corpse barefooted with the legs of her pants ending just above her ankles. Buffy gazed down at her feet with childish curiosity and ten toes wriggled back up at her.

"Huh. Whaddya know." The perplexed expression on the adult girl's face would have looked more at home on an easily confused toddler. "Gotta say though, feels good. Refreshing. Like I'm hiking." Faith couldn't tell if the elder slayer's giddy, enthusiastic talking was genuine along with her absent-minded smile. It freaked her out how someone so dangerous could appear so innocent.

"If we ever survive this you're gonna make some shrink crazy rich."

The hood pulled all the way over Buffy's head obscured the majority of her features as she cocked her head thoughtfully to the side. This did nothing to soften the disquieting gaze she'd fixed on Faith as she chewed on the collar of her jersey. It was that frightening intensity and detachment in Buffy's eyes that had wigged Faith out since the first time she'd seen it back in Los Angeles.

"You should avoid that." Buffy's voice brought Faith back from her thoughts and she looked to what she was referring to. A large puddle of sickly, ice blue liquid was gushing from the open wounds of the monster's massive, lifeless body. "It stains. Trust me."

The gushing fluid was steadily melting through paved stone and asphalt indiscriminately.

"Uh...huh. I'll keep my distance." Faith reassured Buffy as she gave her a bewildered look. She attempted to stretch out her back muscles and spine while she had the opportunity but an uncharacteristic whimper escaped her as pain burned through her bruised torso.

"Fuuu...remind me not to do that a-GAH!" Faith hadn't heard Buffy move but her shadowed face now loomed inches from her own as she stood perched on the monster's neck. "What?"

Buffy's intense gaze turned suddenly sheepish. She toyed with the end of her scythe.

"Are you okay?" It was hard to find her concern sincere when the girl in question was covered in various colours of blood and viscera.

"Oh yeah, heart attacks withstanding I'm just dandy, B." Faith chuckled humourlessly. She put her head in her dirty, aching hands and took a deep breath before raking her fingers back through her hair and looking at Buffy with purpose.

"B...Buffy, why did you come back if your first instinct is to run out the door as soon as trouble comes knockin'?"

"I didn't run out the door. I jumped over the fence."

"Yeah, well, same difference, Buffy. You're meant to be the good one. The leader. The friend. Not...this!" Faith gestured wildly at the girl. "I've had to pick up the slack. I've had to be _**you**_. And frankly it sucks ass. Seriously, I don't know how you did it cus I've wanted to bolt from day one at this new gig."

Buffy's head remained at an angle as she observed Faith quietly. It was hard to tell if she was even listening.

"And to be honest, B..." The words that sprung to mind seemed harsh and exaggerated but they had to be said, "...scary as fuck."

Buffy blinked. Then shrugged.

"That's it?" Faith looked disappointed at the slayer's indifferent reaction.

"Whaddya want me to say? Boo?" Buffy asked followed by a giggling fit at the expense of her own joke. "...boo..."

"I'm tryna be serious here, Bu-!"

Buffy suddenly shoved Faith to the ground and growled lowly.

"See! Now that's just downright-!" Faith cried but was gestured to stay quiet when Buffy unsubtly clamped her hand over the brunette's mouth. Her muffled protests were unintelligible but the sound of something moving close by soon shut her up. For a few tense seconds there was silence save from the rustle of debris in a nearby breeze and the crackle of flames.

Then without warning they attacked.

Faith counted seven before Buffy vaulted over her in a blur of violent and elegant movement. The familiar sound of a vampire's death throes met her ears and Faith glimpsed two disintegrating Turok Han skulls fly past her field of vision. She attempted to sit up and prepare herself to join the fight as another ancient vampire charged towards her, fangs bared.

But Buffy was faster. So fast that the Turok Han hadn't even registered her fist tearing through its chest with its shrivelled, black heart clutched in her fingers protruding out the vampire's back. Buffy was beheading a fourth and cleaving a fifth attacker through the waist before she'd even removed her arm from the dusty skeleton. She spun in a full circle and jammed the stake-end of the scythe through the muscle and bone of another Turok Han's chest cavity. A seventh assailant exploded in a cloud of dust as it tried to run, receiving a perfectly thrown stake to the heart.

A few stragglers eyed Buffy with newly developed fear and began to back off. She stood ready with the scythe in one hand and the sword of one of the fallen vampires in her other. She flexed her fingers against each handle and swung them in arcs, slowly, waiting. Eventually a Turok Han behind Buffy tried its luck and met a grisly, dismembered end. The other three charged together with weapons raised. Buffy withdrew the crossbow strapped to her lower back and shot an improvised, vicious-looking bolt through the heart of the closest vampire.

The second drew blows with her scythe as it swung a heavy axe wildly in hope of causing the slayer some kind of harm. She ducked and dodged, moving calmly backwards from each sweep of the axe until she got bored and snapped her hands to the axe's blade, stopping it mid-swing. She arched her back, turning with a full roundhouse kick to the side of the stunned Turok Han's head with full force. The vampire's head hung limply to the side of its neck by a few threads of sinew. Its face was almost comical before it collapsed into bones and dust. However, in the time it had taken Buffy to creatively decapitate her foe, the last remaining Turok Han had sneaked up beside her and its fist crunched sickeningly against her cheek, causing her head to reel away with the strength of the blow.

When Buffy rose back up the look in her eyes was terrifying. She matched the vampire's punch with a two-fisted haymaker that sent teeth flying, sliced through both its legs in one vicious sweep of the scythe. She then dragged the incapacitated demon over to the puddle of blood that was still eating through the concrete. Faith winced as Buffy threw the Turok Han face first into the acidic liquid and forced its head down with her bare feet. She was thankful when the thing finally turned to dust; the screaming was unbearable.

"Well, that was bracing." Buffy stated as she cricked her neck casually. A dumbstruck Faith gaped wide-eyed, taking in the piles of ash and dust billowing around them as she sat still as a stone, frightened to move in case Buffy was about to spring back into action. Turning slowly to fix the lethal, supernatural warrior before her with an apprehensive stare, Faith suddenly wondered who she was safer with; Buffy or the murderous, blood-thirsty demons. "We should head back. There'll be more. There always is."

"And what do you propose we do when they're bangin' on the front door?" Faith asked. Her voice was dry and scratchy from pain and shock.

"Not be home." Buffy said truthfully as she pulled Faith back to her feet and slung her arm around her neck. She turned to the side to face her injured comrade and added, "Unless you enjoy a slow disembowelling. Do you?"

"You tell me, B. You gave it a shot a few years back. Did I appear to be a fan?" Faith simpered sarcastically as she limped slightly alongside Buffy's steady stride.

"No." The hooded blonde looked slightly put out by Faith's irate reminder of their past.

"And let's not forget the fact that if you hadn't skipped off back in L.A in the first place we wouldn't be out here surrounded by things that want us dead."

Buffy snorted to herself as she helped Faith down the street.

"You didn't have to come get me. No one forced you. " She pointed out.

"Xander made me." Faith tried.

"Liar."

"Well he told me you'd escaped your padded cell so it was more of an indirect order." She shot back irately as Buffy helped her over a fallen girder.

"I bet he tried to stop you." Buffy sneered playfully.

"Fine!" Faith huffed in agitation staring upward as she shook her free hand exasperatedly into the air. "I came off my own skin. Happy? Even though I've hated you every day for the last three months I still came out here, riskin' death, almost losing an ear to an Assassin and gettin' pulverised by a Godzilla-sized calamari to save your crazy, ungrateful, scrawny ass!"

Buffy stayed quiet for awhile after Faith's outburst as the brunette simmered beside her. When they were forced to shimmy around a large smoking pothole in their path she finally spoke.

"I'm grateful." Buffy almost murmured as she clung to the outside of a storefront.

"What?" Faith grunted as she finally reached the opposite side of the immense fissure and stopped to get her breath back.

"I'm. Grateful." It seemed Buffy was struggling to get the words out. Her voice was still barely audible but Faith heard her clearly. "And my ass isn't scrawny." Despite herself Faith smiled at Buffy's last remark. She watched her move around the crater in thoughtful reverence. Faith felt empathetic towards Buffy for the first time in months, realising just how easy it was for her to surprise you. The effect two simple sincere words from the troubled slayer had on Faith was uncomfortably overpowering. She didn't know whether to thank her, run away or cry in shock.

Faith opted to stay silent for the remainder of the journey instead.

* * *

When the familiar sounds of headquarters reached the slayers, Faith felt instant relief. She wasn't alarmed that the searchlights were off; they usually went through a mandatory shutdown from time to time as they tended to attract demons like moths to a flame. This was soon replaced by sinking dread when she saw the state of the main gate. It'd been torn and bent diagonally from the top right to the bottom left like a piece of paper. As they got closer the numerous gorged marks across the sheet metal proved something had clawed its way inside the base. The guard with a missing throat, slouched lifelessly out of his booth, was the second disconcerting sign.

"Looks like you shoulda left me out there after all, B." Faith snickered to herself fluttering in and out of consciousness as the long walk back had taken its toll on her.

"Yeah, you are kinda heavy..." Buffy stated offhandedly as she scanned the quiet darkness ahead of them.

"Hey!" Faith said suddenly feeling awake and angry. "It's not my fault you're a dwarf. No need to be a bitch about it." A strange smile crept across Buffy's face just visible beneath her scarlet hood.

"Yeah but it kept you conscious." Buffy explained contentedly, her attention focused on what may or may not exist ahead of the pair.

"Have I ever mentioned how much I dislike you?"

"Once or twice." Buffy shrugged. "Here." She leaned Faith up against the canvas wall of the barracks they were passing. Faith made a few displeased sounds but mainly willed herself not to sink to the ground; something her body was telling her would be much more comfortable.

"Stay." Faith's blurring vision vaguely made out a kaleidoscope of red and blonde as Buffy's face moved away to her left. Faith followed the blonde stealthily work her way to the barracks entrance, peeking inside. "It's empty." She informed above a whisper. "If I leave you here you'll be safe until-"

"No." Faith stated gruffly.

"-I find the others and bring them to you-"

"You deaf? I said no." Faith snapped as she tried to look defiant, "I'm not being left in some tent...missing out-" She winced as her fractured ribs screamed through her skin that every breath she took was agonising. Faith swallowed, ignoring the urge to vomit, remaining resolved as she continued. "I'm not missing out on the action. Not the kind to...to sit on the sidelines...licking my wounds."

"Right. Cus when it comes to the big showdown you'll be as useful as Andrew." Buffy scoffed growing impatient as she shifted on the balls of her feet.

"It's wrong to speak ill of the dead, B." Faith retorted seriously.

A round of gunfire caught the slayers' attention.

"See. Someone's alive..." Faith ventured, trying valiantly to slide along the barracks wall towards the sound.

"Or the demons started using guns too." Buffy wondered aloud. "This is why I'm so anti-bullet."

She finally relented, finding Faith's pitiful efforts to move too much to ignore. She supported her again as they approached what they hoped to be an ally in the night.

"If I end up using you as a human shield don't take it personally. Force of recent habit." Buffy whispered as she carefully unsheathed the scythe from her back.

"Noted."

Buffy crept forward cautiously. Overhead lights flickered dimly, barely illuminating patches of gravel and asphalt as if in warning of what lurked in the dark.

Buffy felt something wet and sticky against her bare feet. She froze. She moved her toes slowly forward and to the side – searching blindly – eventually feeling the texture of cloth and then the metallic rigidness of a rifle. She couldn't have seen the scythe if it were waved in front of her face. The lights of the towering LDS Church office were few and far away and every other building close by was shrouded in darkness. There was a loud buzzing sound and she turned to see the unpredictable flashing of a nearby generator-powered search light.

"Stay." Buffy commanded as she placed Faith securely against the building on which the searchlight sat atop. Even in the pitch black it wasn't hard to assume the other slayer was throwing a rude hand gesture her way.

Finding her bearings, Buffy located the base of the building and climbed deftly up various footholds and ledges. She was at the roof in a matter of seconds. Flipping over the lip of the levelled roof and landing in a low crouch.

She made her way silently to the generator. It appeared in working order but she had no expertise on amplifying the light source it powered. Annoyed, Buffy moved over to the searchlight, swivelling it downward to see what lay ahead. She frowned slightly at what was thrown into illumination.

Scores of dead soldiers littered the ground. Some lying bloody and motionless, while others had been torn to shreds and scattered across the blood-drenched ground. The hulking thing that had smashed its way into the base was also thankfully dead. Buffy wrinkled her nose in disgust; it looked like a rhinoceros crossed with a spider. Buffy didn't regret that she had missed this particular encounter.

"I see you're as resilient as Harris said you were."

The voice was unfamiliar and sudden but if Buffy was surprised she didn't show it. She turned slightly to view the speaker. A mature man she didn't recognize dressed smartly in military uniform stood opposite her in the shadows. A series of medals shined on the left of his chest in the glow thrown by the searchlight. He appeared quite intact compared to those caught in the massacre below them.

"Do I know you?" Buffy asked without any inclination of being polite. People that watch you from dark corners never scream 'friendly'.

"Not directly." General Louis stepped around Buffy to where the searchlight stood spluttering in and out of life. He looked down at the mess of bodies. "Such a waste. Young men and women dying for no good reason." He paused to sigh deeply, but something about the inflection in his voice had Buffy on edge. "Dying at the hands of things that...don't make sense. That shouldn't exist." He turned to look Buffy dead in the eye. "Yet here I am. Witness to the madness sweeping this great nation. And I can't stop it."

"Save me the bleeding heart monologue." Buffy said stifling a yawn.

"It's easy for you; you're the 'slayer'." The General's tone portrayed a deep revulsion for what that last word represented. Buffy wasn't sure how to react to this stranger's knowledge of who and what she was.

"See Harris might think he had me fooled but no...no, I've known about you for quite some time." The man smiled widely, stretching the crow's feet around his eyes as he fearlessly kept his ground against Buffy. "I've been expecting you. Blonde. Yay high. Supernatural strength and a declining mental state. Sounds right to me!"

Buffy took a threatening step forward. The mature man's insulting tone beginning to try Buffy's near nonexistent patience.

"Who or what are you?" Buffy asked with growing irritation.

"An insect in the dirt at the feet of infinitesimal power."

"Right. So, evil then."

"What?"

"You're clearly evil's lackey. And since we both know my standpoint on all things bad, I'd say it was time I made you dead." Buffy took another dangerous step forward, drawing her scythe to Louis' neck.

"That's close enough, Summers." Buffy stopped, eyeing the revolver aimed at her chest. His gaze shifted to the weapon centimetres from his throat. "Drop it."

After a pregnant pause Buffy obliged and let the scythe clatter noisily to the concrete roof.

"You think I'd just let you stroll in here and let you leave? Oh no, I've been wanting to do this for a long damn time." The revolver was now aimed at her head as the hand holding it began to shake with excitement. "And once you're gone, I'll go see Lehane." A twisted sneer warped the man's features. "I've had my eye on her for quite a while. No point in killing her too. Not like we need any more slayers around here!" He chuckled darkly. "I'm sure I'll find another use for her..."

Buffy, whose face had been hidden by the angle of her hood, now met the General's insane stare.

"I don't like guns." She revealed in a hushed, dark tone. Her fists tightened at her sides.

"What a shame," The General said with mock sympathy, pulling back the hammer mechanism, "I can't think why."

Before his finger could even squeeze the trigger, General Louis found his nose connecting violently with Buffy's forehead as she moved with astonishing speed; closing the gap between them in an instant. Grabbing the revolver with one hand and twisting his arm behind his back with the other - Buffy heard his humerus crack satisfyingly. She also heard and felt the loud gunshot that rung out across the deserted base. Louis crumbled to the floor a look of shock and relief washing over his features as he took one last ragged breath.

"They get people killed."

She threw the revolver over the edge, surveying the General's body with disinterest as it fell to the floor - until she spied the communication device strapped to his belt. Buffy crouched down to remove it and almost jumped when a loud blast of static erupted from the earpiece. She couldn't make out many of the words spoken on the other end but it was a sign that someone else was here.

Her friends could still be alive.

Buffy's gaze rose from the communicator to the top of the LDS building in the distance. It seemed the safest bet to assume anyone alive would take shelter at the highest available structure. She prayed the elevator was working as hauling Faith up umpteen amounts of stairs didn't appeal to her in the slightest.

"Ouch. That stung." Buffy turned to find the General standing over his own body, regarding it curiously before fixing the slayer with an eerie smile. He had a matching bullet wound protruded from his chest, blood trickled gently down his crisp, clean uniform.

"You're not him." Buffy stated firmly. Her eyes narrowed to slits as the grip on her scythe tightened immensely.

"No, true. But he did make the perfect holiday spot until you cut the vacation short. Thanks for that by the way." The General's copy said sarcastically.

"Pleasure's genuinely all mine." Buffy smiled briefly at the knowledge of the inconvenience she had caused. Her expression quickly became neutral.

"You don't seem too glad to see me again? But then you wouldn't want to see yourself in a mirror right now." Louis smirked before his form shifted and changed.

"Wow. We've definitely looked better. Is bathing illegal during the apocalypse? Did I not get that memo?" The First quipped, now in the guise of a far younger and healthier looking version of herself.

Buffy was rigid. Her stony, unhinged gaze betrayed no emotion she may have felt for the malevolent being beside her. "What's the matter, Summers? No witty retort?

"Stop." Buffy snarled, barely containing her seething rage for this thing that had caused her so much anguish and misery. Her knuckles were white against the scythe in her grip, her hand shaking ever so slightly.

"Stop what, Slayer?" The Master now stood imposingly over Buffy and she blanched in recognition of her past nemesis. "This?" The First gestured to the demolished city around them with The Master's gnarled hands. "But this cannot be stopped. This is the fate of every man-made settlement across this plagued planet. The human disease will _**cease**_ to exist."

"Oh, glorious day!" The Master cried suddenly, clapping his hands enthusiastically together. "Can you hear them, slayer?" He asked, almost whispering. He cocked his head and closed his eyes as if listening to some inaudible, heavenly symphony. "The tide approaching...coming to wash you...and your pathetic friends into the abyss."

Buffy said nothing. Blood trickled through the gaps in her fingers as she dug them into the handle of the scythe. The First, now in the guise of Warren, noticed this and winced mockingly.

"Now _**that**_ looks like it smarts!" He said circling Buffy like a cat toying with a mouse. "But then I'd know all about that wouldn't I?" Warren smiled and in an instant he was skinless and glistening sickly in front of Buffy. "See that witch whore of yours – sorry, 'Wiccan' whore," he paused to air quote, "really did a number on me. But I have to give her credit on her professionalism." Warren's skinless corpse padded around and leaned against the small generator. "But now..." He made a derisive noise, "She can't tell her frog spawn from her newt's eyes! If she keeps slipping up...someone's gonna get hurt." The First could barely contain the joy it was getting out of taunting Buffy and decided to keep pushing. "Who knows...in her fragile state she might just give up. Throw in the broomstick. Thin out the opposing team-"

There was a loud crash as the stake-end of the scythe passed through the muscles of Warren's abdomen and into the generator. The machinery protested loudly, sparking and belching a plume of smoke as Warren transformed into a smirking Angel.

"So quick to strike me down, lover? Have I not suffered enough for you?" The First asked doing an uncanny impersonation of Angelus as the searchlight flickered violently; throwing the rooftop in and out of shadow.

"Shut. Up." Buffy was shaking from head to toe. She'd never known such equal fear and hate for something in her entire life.

"Now now. Don't be like that." Angel patronised her calmly as he strode into her personal space. "All I want is a goodbye kiss."

Buffy's fist flew through Angel's head with such ferocity that the First actually flinched, but remained unscathed.

"Ahoa! Almost felt that one!" It jeered, Angel's black duster swaying with every exaggerated movement of The First. "Tell you what. Since you're all fired up why don't I test your will to live?"

"All you've gotta do is get to the elevator before something eats you." The ground beneath them seemed to be shaking as a steady, low rumbling reached Buffy's ears.

"I'd hurry if I were you," Buffy looked up at the change in voice to see a younger, happier her glaring back. "Clock's-a-tickin' and you might be safe up here but poor, broken Faithy isn't."

Faith could just about make out the muffled voices above her beyond the sound of ringing and blood pumping in her ears. Someone was talking to Buffy but from where Faith sat she couldn't tell who. She was also positive she'd heard a gunshot. She'd strained her slayer hearing to its extent in her damaged state but was struggling to make out coherent words. It was even harder to listen with the ground trembling and cracking open around her.

"Wait what..." Before she had time to assess this new information Buffy landed roughly in front of her making Faith jolt in surprise. She was tugged up off the ground and practically dragged alongside the silent blonde as she sprinted towards the one building that loomed over the others. Faith struggled to keep in step with Buffy's frantic gait and she stumbled several times. On one such occasion she caught a glimpse of a deep crack tearing apart the asphalt beneath them, as strange orange light and alien sounds poured forth. After that she made more of an effort to keep up with the older girl. More cracks and tears appeared in the ground around them as the tremors grew louder and with greater frequency.

By the time they reached the lobby entrance the sound of earth exploding upward and something shrieking wildly into the night could be heard behind them as the doors swung shut. Buffy raced to the elevator, wasting no time in waiting to face their pursuer. They almost collided with the shiny, steel doors as they came skidding to a halt. Buffy hammered the service button to call the lift down.

For an agonising few seconds nothing happened.

Then the hum of electric motors beyond the doors signalled the descent of their saviour. Buffy inwardly thanked whatever Gods were on her side tonight, then instantly took her prayers back when it appeared the elevator was coming down from the top floor.

"Well this is anti-climatic." Faith commented dryly as she nursed her ribs with one hand and leaned against the wall with her free arm. The sound of shattering glass caught their attention and they could just make out something long and hideous slithering into the lobby.

"You were saying?" Buffy retorted as she drew her scythe and spun it in graceful patterns before standing in a defensive position in front of Faith. Several more shattering panes declared the arrival of more unwelcome guests. The linoleum flooring beneath them was beginning to shake and crack as slender, beak-like protuberances pushed up into the wide room followed by twisting, limbless bodies that stretched on forever. The number of tunnelling creatures was growing by the second as they filled the lobby, slithering and coiling aggressively against one another as they fought to cram themselves down the short, narrow corridor that led to the elevators. One large three-jawed beak spread apart to reveal rotating rings of barbed teeth. The thing bellowed foully at the pair and lunged forward to snap at the Buffy.

The mass of squirming, muscular forms prevented it from getting as close as it would of liked and as Buffy and Faith pressed themselves into the cold metal behind them, the doors gave way and both slayers feel backwards unceremoniously into the interior of the elevator. The same giant worm pushed further through the crowd of its siblings and made to launch itself at them again just as Buffy hit the button for the top floor. They both watched with bated breath as the doors shut slowly against the backdrop of shrieking, serpentine creatures as one coiled back to bite. Its jaws hit the doors with a tremendous crunch as they closed just in time.

For a moment both slayers stared silently at the three deep indentations set into the steel. Then the elevator began to ascend and a woodwind rendition of Chicago's _'If you leave me now' _began to play through the speaker system. The pair shot glances to one another as they sat sprawled on the floor regaining their breath and composure.

"And I thought the whole 'from beneath you it devours' thing was just hype." Faith said through laboured, painful breaths.

"There's evil for you." Buffy replied as she rested against the wall behind where she sat. "Always following through on good advertising."

* * *

The business end of half a dozen M16 machine guns wasn't the warmest welcome the two girls had expected, but the guardsmen relaxed once word travelled to Xander about who had arrived and the pair was allowed to walk unharmed to the stairs that accessed the roof.

Wood came to a breathless stop in front of the two slayers as they appeared at the roof exit. A constant flurry of activity was taking place around them as mounted guns rattled loudly into the dark city, medics patched up the wounded and warlocks and wiccans sent devastating spells thundering down into the streets.

"You're safe." He managed after a moment. Faith forced herself to look at him properly, even though her head felt as heavy as an anvil. He appeared worn out and had a few scrapes and cuts that hadn't been there last time Faith had been in his company. She gestured Buffy to let her go and stumbled into Robin's arms, collapsing against his chest as she clung to him.

"More or less." Faith replied, still struggling to stand on her own. He hugged her tightly and she let out a long, rattling sigh. "Missed you."

"Hey now. Don't get soft on me." Wood admonished her teasingly.

"Oh, shut up, Shaft. After the day I've had I've earned the right." Faith chuckled hoarsely into his chest. She leant up to kiss him and they only separated when Robin realised Buffy was watching them intently. He cleared his throat uneasily.

"Buffy..." It was the first time Wood had seen Buffy seen the events in Sunnydale and he paused to take her appearance in properly. What had happened after the battle with The First was mostly a mystery to him. He'd been hospitalized by his wounds and had to hear of Buffy's descent into madness and eventual departure whilst bedridden. The girl standing before Wood now left him lost for words. "I...its good...to have you back."

"Is it?" Buffy inquired in a childishly curious manner that contradicted her hard stare. Robin's forehead wrinkled in confusion and he remained silent until Willow and Xander ran over to join the trio.

"You found her then." Willow said tersely. The weary Wiccan was hugging herself and seemed unable to look Buffy in the eye, directing her question straight at Faith.

"Yeah, sorta." Faith began awkwardly as she moved slowly out of Robin's embrace. "I found something big and hungry. Buffy saved the day. Vice versa she found me."

"Yeah, about that..." Buffy started hesitantly as all eyes turned to her, "I saw monster. I proceeded to slay monster. I didn't actually see you...being eaten by aforementioned monster."

Faith's stare bordered on realms beyond which incredulity alone could supply. "Seriously?"

Buffy shrugged as she chewed on her lip and averted her gaze.

The group were silent as Faith stood in disbelief, sighing in frustration. She folded her arms, clenched her jaw and cursed loudly through gritted teeth.

"Awwwkward." Buffy mumbled under her breath.

"But, hey! See it as an extra bonus." Xander chipped in with an abrupt clap of his hands. "Buff goes on a slaying massacre and saves you in the process! A win/win situation if I ever...tried to hastily invent one to defuse growing hostile tension..."

"I don't think its working." Robin offered after an uncomfortable beat. Xander exchanged a knowing look with him and decided to move on.

"I'm glad you two made it back in one piece but if you hadn't noticed we've been kinda busy!" He gestured to the chaos ensuing around them. The guns were firing with greater frequency and every spell cast seemed to impact closer to the tower.

"What happened?" Faith demanded sternly.

"We were attacked." Robin explained. "The power went out and all hell broke loose. Some rhino-spider thing smashed its way through the gate and gored half the military personnel to death before it was finally brought down. Then the ground started eating people. We had to retreat here - the whole ground camp's been torn apart. It's weird though. It felt orchestrated."

"You think someone planned the attack?" Faith asked. Robin nodded.

"That's the general consensus. Assuming The First is giving orders on how it wants its minions to kill us."

"It is. It was." Buffy piped up suddenly. "It was using the man with all the medals. He was a puppet."

"Wait a minute. You're saying General Louis did this?" Xander asked sceptically. "How do you know?"

"Met him downstairs. Wasn't big on the warm fuzzies. Seemed to know an awful lot about slayers and practically gushed about The First." Buffy explained briskly.

"Where's he now?" Willow asked suspiciously. Buffy's eyes looked darker as she regarded her best friend.

"He won't be a problem anymore."

Willow's eyes bugged. Realisation dawned swiftly on the rest of the party and uncomfortable glances were traded.

"But the fact The First can rent people out like a tux and tails now doesn't fill me with happy feelings." Buffy added, drawing the importance of how dangerous their circumstances had become.

"So what exactly is the plan here, Xand?" Faith inquired impatiently. "We sittin' ducks or what?"

"There's an airlift coming any minute now. We're about to initiate operation: haul ass." Xander clarified jovially.

"And disappoint the guests? Where's the fun in that?" Buffy chastised, looking genuinely annoyed. The building shook violently as a missile collided with something screaming and clawing at the perimeter fence.

"Where's the fun in being dead?" Xander countered, his voice raising an octave. It was clear he felt terrified by the predicament they were in; cornered and buying time with one slayer physically incapacitated and the other mentally unhinged. They were in over their heads and at the mercy of The First.

"By all means, B, stay behind. I'm sure you'll make a great hostess." Faith injected spitefully.

The welcome sight of a helicopter descending to the side of the roof drew their attention and they shielded their eyes from the bright flood lights.

"No! Tell them to turn the lights off! No lights! No-!" Xander's radio conversation was cut short by the haunting wail of some gigantic beast and a torrent of air rushed downwards as a huge tentacle slammed into the helicopter. The aircraft spun uncontrollably, blades suddenly posing a danger as they grinded into the concrete structure before the serpentine limb wrapped around the vehicle, stopping the main rotor instantly before slamming the wreckage against a corner of the roof, crushing those unlucky enough to be in its path.

There was silence within the group of five as they watched the remains of their escape burn enthusiastically against the night sky.

"Was there a plan B?" Faith asked quietly as she watched recruits rush to extinguish the flames sprouting from the totalled chopper.

"Hostiles have breached the fence." Shouted a soldier at a machine gun post on the front of the building, "They're climbing the North face; ETA two minutes!"

"Maybe...maybe I could...I don't know...teleport us away?" Willow offered hesitantly, speaking up suddenly and looking sheepishly at everyone's feet when they turned to consider her proposal.

"Like in Star Trek?" Xander wondered with boyish curiosity and got punched in the arm by Faith. "Ow! What? It's a valid example!"

"Like if it goes wrong then I teleport us into outer space...or to the centre of the Earth. Or...we just sorta...explode." Willow explained with a nervous smile, sounding more uncertain about this idea as she listed the possible perils out loud.

"Suddenly liking my chances with the demons here." Robin admitted with a dry chuckle.

"It's worth a shot." Buffy muttered thoughtfully. Her expression turned serious and she fixed Willow with an even stare, "Give it your best shot, Will. How much time will you need?"

"Uh..." She looked taken aback by Buffy's sudden abrupt command. "Five minutes I g-guess. M-maybe more."

"That's fine." Buffy said, then turned to the others, "Everyone else, keep her alive."

"Uh...okay." Xander, who had become accustomed to making all the big decisions lately, scratched his head dumbfounded. "Who made her boss lady again?"

"Pretty sure she just elected herself. She's crazy and spontaneous like that." Faith explained beside him with a shrug.

Deciding collectively that this plan was the best and only option at hand, the gang chose not to argue and turned to their predetermined posts to await the approaching swarm. Xander stood ready with an M16 as a slight nervous twitch plaguing his working eye. Robin ignited the gas on a makeshift flamethrower and waited, stoic. Buffy brandished her scythe and a sword taken from one of Turok Han she killed earlier. Faith, wavering on her feet, but stood her ground too. She unsheathed her stolen dagger and felt somewhat under armed compared to the others. Within this improvised circle Willow arranged herself, Amy and the surviving magical personnel to act out the teleportation charm.

Faith felt something prod her in the small of her back and she turned to see Buffy returning her prized shotgun.

"Hey! I forgot about you!" Faith exclaimed with fleeting delight, before turning on her fellow slayer, "You had this the whole time?"

"It's not like you were in any condition to use it." Buffy stated matter-of-factly. "But I figure if we're all about to maybe die you could use all the help you can get."

Faith took the shotgun and checked the barrels were loaded. Buffy hadn't stuck around for a thank you and was back in her guard position on the other side of Willow's small coven.

Within less than a minute the mounted guns and front line were overrun as demons poured over onto the roof, tearing through the blockade of human flesh. Soldiers were tossed over the edge, Turok Han sunk their fangs into unwilling prey and others were killed instantaneously. Despite being ridiculously outnumbered and cornered, the gang of five stood their ground as Robin and Xander opened fire into the approaching mob; with Faith and Buffy lashing out at anything brash enough to confront them.

The remaining soldiers backed up around Willow, aiding in the fight as bullets tore demons in half and left bodies practically decapitated. The circle was holding. A sphere of pinkish energy was beginning to emanate from the enclosed inner ring of witches and warlocks. Hopes were lifted. The fighting intensified with rising morale. They were going to live.

A tremendous crash closer by signalled the collapse of the Latter Day Saints Church as something huge and hidden in the darkness pushed its way through it. A larger version of what had brutally attacked Faith earlier turned out to be the culprit and began to crush the foundations of the LDS office building. The assembly of survivors watched on in horror as the structure began to collapse around them; chunks of granite raining down below.

Robin incinerated several Turok Han into cinders and smiled as another decided to jump back over the side rather than burn to death. His smile abruptly faltered and he doubled over in pain, falling to his knees as he began to shake uncontrollably. Faith saw his vulnerable form sprawled on the floor and attempted to get to him only to be blocked by a winged demon baring its fangs and slashing at her with wild fury. She ducked the first swing but received three deep gashes across her left shoulder from the second. Reeling from exhaustion, pain and frustration Faith gathered her remaining strength, raised one knee to her chest and snap kicked the demon square in the chin. The creature stood dazed and Faith smashed the butt of her gun across the bat-like demon's faces before shooting it through the chest as it stumbled over the edge to its doom.

When she got to Wood he seemed to have recovered from the convulsions that had racked his body.

"You okay, big guy?" Faith asked with anxious concern as she jolted over to him. When Robin turned to face her he smiled. Faith's nose wrinkled in confusion. The smile wasn't there to reassure or comfort her. It was a cruel, mocking smirk. Behind them the sphere of energy in front of Willow grew double in size, humming louder as she, Amy and the remaining Wiccans chanted continuously without pause for breath.

"I'm so glad Louis didn't get that most honoured of privileges." Robin confessed relishing the confused look on the slayer's face. He placed his hand firmly on her injured shoulder.

"What you talkin' about?" Faith demanded, growing angry at her boyfriend's unnerving words. The fingers pressed against her wound a little harder and she winced visibly, shrugging herself free from Robin's grip with minimal effort. A queer smile sat upon his face and the white's of his eyes stood out against his dark skin. It was a frightening look.

"There's so much more you need to suffer before you finally shuffle off this mortal coil, Faith." He continued calmly, his sweet smile contradicting the evil rolling off him in waves. "And since I turned one slayer crazy by killing the love interests, I say I try the same with you."

"No..." She knew what was talking through Wood. Buffy's earlier explanation of her encounter with the General rang in her ears. She knew and yet it didn't seem possible or plausible or fair. "Don't you fucking dare!"

"Faithhh...language." Wood reprimanded with malicious glee. He backed away, moving closer to the edge of the roof with every step. Demons continued to climb over the railings but paid Robin no attention as they passed him. "Mm mm. I think this is gonna work out nicely."

"No. No. No!" Faith's cries were ignored and she was brushed easily aside when she moved to grab him in her weakened state. She winced as she hit the cold concrete, rising almost instantly with excruciating effort.

"Don't worry. You'll see me again." Robin's gentle smile seemed perverse in its current context as it stretched across his handsome face. "Promise."

Faith's scream was indistinguishable in the insanity occurring around her as she watched Robin Wood plummet over the edge, disappearing from view. Her heart stopped. She couldn't breathe. Her insides felt like they'd been removed. She choked out in despair and hardly noticed the hand that clutched her undamaged shoulder. She was pulled back with more force than she could fight against.

There was a blinding, intense flash of purple energy.

The sensation of falling hit the pit of Faith's stomach and nausea began to bubble up inside her.

And then she was gone in a brilliant blink of light.


	9. The Catalyst Part I

**A.N: So...this took longer than usual! I apologise for the delay but I have been a busy bee and setback with writer's block. But now it's done. It's a reasonably chunky size and I hope it was worth the wait guys (if you haven't all left me!). As always, please review. It encourages me. Honest.**

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**The Catalyst (Part I)**

**Location: Los Angeles, The Hyperion. **

**Several Months Ago.**

In one of the Hyperion's abundant, dusty rooms Buffy stirred from a long, fitful sleep. She'd dreamt of only nightmares, of mistakes made and 'what ifs' that rested painfully in her chest and stomach. She brought a hand to her face, tasting the saltiness of her tears before feeling the wet stains they'd left across her cheeks. She couldn't sigh, nor bother with the effort to feel depressed or angry or anything resembling a reaction to the foreboding plight she found herself in.

She heard the sudden approach of heavy footsteps in the corridor adjacent to her room and stiffened, gripping the duvet that was draped over her. The overused linen had become something of a safety blanket during the last several hours. As the unwelcome sound grew closer Buffy hastily wiped the tears away from her face and made sure that her body was properly concealed beneath the sheets.

"Rise and shine, Goldilocks, the bears are home." Faith declared as she strode in through the door and immediately pulled back the curtains nearest the bedridden slayer. Buffy internally groaned as harsh sunlight streamed through the bay windows and buried her head under her pillow. Her intruder scanned the room briefly, locating a chair she found the most appealing and pushed it across the room with the heel of her boot until it was close enough to the bed. Faith proceeded to climb over the piece of furniture and fell ungracefully back into the seat.

"Something wrong with the luxury suite Angel pretty much insisted you stay in?" Faith asked drolly, "Was there a pea under the mattress?"

Buffy peeked from her hiding place to glare frostily at the girl whose words made her head throb and whose boots rested heavily on the edge of her bed. Faith smirked back, unafraid of consequence. Faith gestured for Buffy to explain and the dishevelled blonde relented, exhaling loudly in irritation.

"People kept checking on me. I wanted to be alone. I relocated. I _**was**_ content." Buffy droned monotonously, before nodding in Faith's direction. "Then you showed up. The cycle continues."

"Well I can leave if-"

"Please. A thousand times please."

Faith sat silent for a moment shifting awkwardly in her seat.

"You get I was hopin' you'd just let me stay, right?"

"Figured as much, yeah." Buffy sighed, shifting herself to focus on the ceiling as her eyes adjusted to the ambush of natural light.

"Brought you lunch." Faith ventured. "It's noon by the way...don't suppose you'll eat something for a change? No? Ah, well. Watcha gonna do?" She shrugged and unwrapped the crinkly packaging around the bagel in her hand before taking a large bite. "Waste not, want not and all that shit."

There was a long, pregnant pause while Faith ate and Buffy stared impassively at her chewing pest, the faint rise and fall of her chest just visible through the bedcover. Faith regarded her in silence as she swallowed another bite, pausing as she thought of what to say next.

"I saw Angel's digs today." Faith started conversationally, staring at nothing in particular. "Gotta say, he's holdin' out on us. Made the room you should be in look like my mum's place."

Buffy gave no recognition that Faith had spoken.

Faith exhaled through her nose and scrunched up the bagel's wrapper, tossing it blindly into a corner of the room.

"To be fair the last time I was here involved a major 'this is your life' showdown in Angelus' head while I lay unconscious, hoverin' near certain death. So maybe I'm just biased."

"What is it about me and comas?" Faith chuckled dryly. Buffy recoiled at the guilt her words brought up and she withdrew deeper into her covers, turning away.

Faith let out an aggravated sigh and rolled her eyes, biting her lip to stop the verbal tirade that begged to be released.

"I'm not good at this, okay!" Faith snapped suddenly. "I'm trying to help but..." She gestured wildly in frustration as words evaded her, her hands curling into fists as she growled in exasperation.

Buffy's prone form remained motionless.

"What do I do?" Faith's voice grew quiet as she felt a sensation swell uncomfortably inside her. She paused to restrain the storm of emotions threatening to break the surface of her usually carefree persona. She blinked and wiped at her eyes with her sleeve, thankful that Buffy wasn't a witness to her loss of control. Faith regained her composure. The next time she spoke her words came out hard and distant. "There's only so many times I'm gonna walk through that door."

"Nothing." Buffy mumbled from the folds of the sheet.

"Huh?"

"There's nothing you can do." Buffy said quietly. "This is just how I feel. There are no magic words to fix this. If there were, Willow would have tried them by now."

"Have you met Red recently?" Faith pointed out dubiously, "Doubt she'll be playin' with her bag of tricks for a long time."

"I got people killed, Faith. For nothing."

"Like I've said every day, B—not your fault." Faith reiterated for the umpteenth time that week. "You didn't kill them. You trained them. You led them—"

"Spike..." Buffy practically whimpered, her eyes glazed by her own personal world of torment, as painful memories flooded back to her.

"Do you really want me to lecture you on the pros and cons of endangering a vampire?" Faith asked incredulously. She personally felt that the least noteworthy death of the battle had been Spike's. He'd lived long enough with a history full of horrific deeds. In essence; she knew full well a soul didn't correct the evils he'd committed. Also he punched her in the face a few times, not the best way to gain her sympathy.

"Death." Buffy whispered, ignoring Faith completely now. A bitter laugh escaped her throat, "She was right. It really is my gift. I'm just this omen of bad, bad things."

"God, save me the martyrdom!" Faith shouted exasperatedly. "We kill things for a living! Of course our lives revolve around death, causalities of war are just gonna happen, B! But you fall down and you get back up and you fuckin' persevere!"

"But why do they have to die?" Buffy asked desperately, abruptly sitting up to face a startled Faith, "Why them and not me? I'm the one meant to face this. I'm the girl from one generation that's supposed to fight and die. I don't understand why they're dead and I'm not."

"You're welcome..." Faith said bitterly, folding her arms as she stared away from the other slayer.

"I don't...I don't mean it like that." Buffy affirmed apologetically. "I'm grateful you pulled me out of there. Truly. You didn't have to take the risk but you did." Faith grudgingly looked back, her expression neutral but warmer than before. "I mean all of it. After all these years. After all this fighting and dying. Why do I get to live and watch the world end?"

Faith rubbed tiredly at her face, taking a moment to choose her next words carefully.

"Look. It was bad. We lost. I hate admitting it cus I'm all about comin' out on top but there ain't any other way to paint it." Faith began bluntly. "Say it's all your fault. Say...you got innocent people killed and you failed as the slayer and now the world's gonna end."

"This is your idea of a pep talk?" Buffy asked scathingly.

"My point," Faith pushed, ignoring the blonde's snippy remark, "is why spend your last days in bed feeling sorry for yourself? Why not go out and take that anger out on some smug demon's face? Or just, I dunno, here's a crazy thought—_**live**_—in the world, before it's gone."

Buffy seemed to be contemplating the other slayer's words.

"Might as well enjoy L.A while it's still here." Faith shrugged casually, pushing home her point as she slouched back in her chair. Buffy couldn't work out if that familiar carefree smirk was genuine or faked to ease Buffy from her precarious state. It didn't seem possible or fair for anyone to appear so detached and calm in times like these. "Besides, there's some important meeting goin' on at Wolfram & Hart. Big 'n' broody was hoping I'd get you to show face."

Buffy sat fiddling with the hem of the bed sheet nervously. She hadn't ventured out of the hotel since she arrived a week ago. But something in Faith's spiel had made her want to leave this room.

"Fine." Buffy relented, rubbing her face and raking her fingers through her unkempt hair. She hesitated at getting out of bed, her face flushing slightly as she looked away with embarrassment.

"I need to get dressed."

"Cool." Faith sprang to her feet, unable to hide the beaming grin on her face as she stretched her arms above her head. She couldn't quite believe she'd managed to convince the depressed slayer to leave the building. It was a feat none of her other friends had been able to achieve. "I'll see you in the lobby in ten."

"Really? Nothing?" Buffy asked incredulously to Faith's clear confusion. "No innuendo. No implied sexual reference. Not even a limerick?" Faith continued to stare bewilderedly, until Buffy gestured to herself through the covers reminding her she wasn't dressed. Faith chuckled deeply and shoved her hands into the back pockets of her jeans.

"The man from Nantucket is M.I.A." Buffy scrunched up her nose in bemusement. Faith sighed and shrugged, "Don't seem like the right time to be a perv."

Faith shot a brief, sympathetic smile at Buffy when the blonde looked moved by the usually crude girl's newfound manners.

"Even I know when to behave, B." Faith shrugged lightly, moving towards the door with all the swagger of a jungle cat.

"Then I guess hell's frozen over and I'm out of a job." Buffy deadpanned as she tackled the arduous effort of climbing out of bed. As she straightened up every bone and muscle popped and clicked in resistance to the new and foreign position. When Buffy reopened her eyes she was unnerved to find Faith staring a little south from her face.

"What...?" Buffy asked defensively. Her hands instinctively moved to pull the cover in front of her hips.

"There's a...you have hello kitty underwear." Faith's hushed words quaked with amused shock.

"So?" Buffy felt very exposed all of a sudden.

"So are you nine?" Faith cried in disbelief.

"Faith—" Buffy shouted, pulling the sheets off the bed to hide her lower half better.

"Going, going!" Faith left the room with hands raised in surrender, but with a smirk planted permanently on her smug face.

The door shut with a click and Buffy was alone again. For a moment she smiled despite herself. But slowly, the memories of just a few days ago filled her head again and the grin vanished.

Buffy stared thoughtfully at the door and mused on the prospect of actually leaving the place she'd considered a sanctuary for the past few days. Not that she needed safety—just a quiet, empty place to hate herself. She craved to be left alone so she could mourn her defeat in privacy. But then they had all lost something. Some more than others. She'd been selfish, as was in her nature sometimes. Buffy resolved that she'd make an effort today. Morale would be at an all time low and her absence probably wasn't helping matters.

As Buffy turned to the basic wardrobe and opened it she realised in her haste to find somewhere to sleep in peace she'd forgotten to bring any of the clothes Angel's people had set aside for her. Evil or not they had impeccable taste.

"Crap." Buffy muttered in annoyance of the inconvenience. She slipped into the jeans she'd left in a heap on the floor and moved deftly through the corridors till she got to the luxurious accommodation her ex had left her with. Since she was making the conscious effort to join the outside world again, Buffy opted for a quick shower that took longer than expected. By the time Buffy had changed into fresh clothes and made her way down to the lobby a whole hour had almost passed. However, Faith was still there, slumped across the lobby settee on her stomach, kicking her legs lazily into the air. She'd been staring aimlessly at the polished floor and looked understandably peeved when Buffy came into focus.

"Jeez, finally! Couldn't decide on which pair of Jimmy Choo's?" Faith asked grumpily as she hefted herself off the cushioned seats she'd been draped across.

"Girls take their time getting ready. You'd know this if you were one." Buffy bit back, stone-faced.

"Wow. The cat enthusiast has claws—go figure." Faith smirked lavishly at the deep blush that spread involuntarily across the blonde's cheeks.

"I'm never going to live that down, am I?" Buffy groaned as she walked towards the hotel entrance.

"Never." Faith huskily replied. She stepped out onto the path, holding the door open for Buffy. The barrage of city sounds caused the shorter slayer to pause, looking uncertain about the prospect of stepping over the threshold. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Buffy assured her, taking a deep breath. She walked out into the sun and took a moment to indulge all five of her senses after suffering seven days of stifled hibernation. She turned to Faith and smiled. "Lead the way."

* * *

Angel coughed in the awkward silence that hovered over the gathered assembly of friends new and old."So I guess...we should begin." He started in an official tone as he organised a jumble of various documents in front of him. After a moment he resigned his shuffling of important papers and looked sheepishly up at the group. "I'm not actually sure...where we begin..."

"We could start with how pissed off the Senior Partners are." said a young, smartly dressed woman that stood in the doorway like a ghost.

"And why is that my concern?" Angel sniped, seeming unsurprised by her unexpected entrance, but irritated by it nonetheless.

"It's everybody's concern. It's the entire population of Los Angeles' concern." Eve stated, appearing beside Angel. He didn't look pleased to see the moderately attractive liaison to the senior partners.

"This is Eve." Angel explained, introducing her to those who were new in the loop. Xander and Giles gave noncommittal nods in her direction; Willow hadn't even registered the woman's arrival.

"She's evil." He added sternly. The lawyer rolled her eyes at the vampire.

"Aren't most of the people working here?" Xander asked rhetorically.

"No. Yes. There's been a lot of turnover." Angel explained, his body language displaying signs of discomfort on the topic.

"Right now we're all friends. Good, bad or ugly." Eve affirmed as she perched herself upon a small filing cabinet against the boardroom's wall.

"Which one are you again?" Wesley inquired sardonically. Eve scowled at the Englishmen who smiled inquisitively back.

"What you've got to get into your head Angel is that what's coming is worse than Wolfram and Hart." Eve continued, addressing Angel as if he were the only one in the room. "Worse than anything you've fought against."

"I met The First, Eve. Happens to be the reason I'm not currently being tortured in a hell dimension. Though right now that sounds pleasant in comparison to talking to you."

"Exactly. The First dragged you out of hell, no easy feat mind you, just so it could have the personal pleasure of making you kill yourself. "

"And it failed." Angel supplied unperturbed.

"Thanks only to your favourite little giver of perfect bliss." Eve retorted snidely as she folded her arms tightly to her chest. "The First is currently more powerful than it's ever been on this plain of existence. It's invulnerable. And when it assumes corporeal form it'll be able to do things that make this firm look like the candy, puppy and fireworks factory. What makes you think you can endure that?"

"What makes you think we can't?"

Eve turned sharply to the new presence in the room and bristled at the intimidating appearance of Buffy standing in the doorway. Faith, who stood beside her, had been the one to pose the unanswered question but it was Buffy's haunted and unassailable gaze that was causing the messenger girl of the senior partners to keep her mouth pleasantly shut.

There was a sudden shift in the room. As if the air had rushed back in and washed the gloomy atmosphere out into the city. Angel was predictably the first to his feet to welcome Buffy, whom he hadn't seen out of the Hyperion since she arrived. It was clear by his beaming smile that she was a sight for sore eyes.

"You're out. And not wearing pyjamas."

"Didn't seem appropriate for office hours." Buffy joked lamely, as she shrugged and managed a small smile. Faith regarded the smile on Buffy's face with relief and watched on as the blonde was embraced by Angel, Xander and Giles in turn. Willow was still oblivious, starring fixatedly out at the skyline with deeply shadowed eyes. Her lack of acknowledgement served for an awkward exchange of looks.

The others tried to prevent her from approaching Willow, but Buffy shook her head lightly and made her way over to the Wiccan. She knelt down, trying to catch her attention at eye level but resigned at placing a hand over one that lay idly in Willow's lap.

"You okay, Will?" Buffy asked quietly. The question felt redundant as soon as it left her mouth. Of course she wasn't alright. She'd lost her first real girlfriend since Tara and felt wholly responsible for her death and their general defeat—probably more so than Buffy did. "You gonna at least look at me?"

Willow's head turned slowly and the hollow, heartbreaking look Buffy received served to only make her feel worse.

"She'll be fine." Fred reassured Buffy confidently as she stood nearest of the group and smiled "It'll just take time. And if the lab guys finally get the Temporal Isolation Tachyon Stimulator working then that might not take as long as you'd think." She babbled in a rush of perky optimism.

"Does...doesn't that stand for-"

Gunn, Wesley and Angel all made signals to drop it and Buffy's mouth closed sheepishly as she settled with, "Thanks, Fred."

A sudden explosion of sound in the form of a shrill whooping alarm made Buffy jump to her feet in trepidation as she took a defensive position.

"Please tell me that's a fire drill?"

"Ugh, don't worry. It's just the security personnel testing out the intruder alarms. It's been like this all day." Eve explained unenthusiastically.

"Well they definitely work." Giles advised as he tried to stop the ringing in his ears along with several others.

"Good." Buffy replied, "It's a start."

"Listen, I'm not thrilled about this whole you working with the bad guys thing. I don't get it and even though you probably have a great excuse to why you're here I'm not gonna make you plead your case." Buffy admitted with blunt honesty. Angel struggled to keep her gaze. "If this is where we make our stand then so be it. We make the best of a bad, bad situation and we..." Buffy looked sideways to Faith who stood listening patiently with the others, "...persevere."

"One question. Where's Dawn?"

"Little Summers is hangin' with Lorne." Gunn clarified, "Those two been gettin' on like a house on fire. If we live through this he'll probably become her agent."

"We didn't think you'd want her around all this." Angel explained honestly.

"No, it's fine. It's what I would have done." Buffy affirmed. A worry line creased her brow and she added," I'm just...surprised she didn't try to taze you."

"Surprised, but boy are we thankful." Xander quipped.

* * *

After Buffy's minor speech, morale seemed heightened as the gang began to speak more animatedly on what would be the best course of action. Even Willow paid an interest into some of the many conversations taking place. When the clock neared the five o'clock mark Angel stood discretely from the long table, ending a conversation with Wesley and Giles on how they thought The First would behave in the immediate days to come. He approached Faith, who stood alone with one foot against the wall, staring out into the sprawled city. Angel wondered if it were genuinely true that the others shunned her from participation in important events all those years ago, or if it was simply a choice she made unconsciously, always prepared to stand as the loner from the pack.

"You okay?" Angel asked, eyeing the girl surreptitiously. Faith tore her gaze away from the window and shrugged offhandedly.

"Honestly? Been better." She confessed, taking a long drag from her cigarette and exhaling a plume of smoke into the room with a deep sigh. Faith was on her third, having ignored Eve's protests about there being no smoking allowed on the premise, and politely flipped the bird when the immortal being tried to reiterate the rule.

"The only reason I look this good is to stop princess over there jumpin' into the moat." Faith gestured in the direction of Buffy, who sat studying and discussing a map of the Los Angeles region with Fred, Xander and Gunn. "I might not be another Buffy in the making, but I can feel how she feels right now and I don't envy her an inch." She took another drag whilst she watched the other slayer thoughtfully. "I'm gonna be what I should have been at the start."

"What's that?" Angel asked patiently.

"Her partner." Faith declared, giving Angel a look that dared him to respond in any way she didn't like. He said nothing and waited for her to continue. "She never has to face this alone. I won't let her. I won't slip up this time. Been there, got the jumpsuit."

Angel saw the vulnerability under the bravado that Faith constructed around herself so well. He saw a scared girl trying to do the right thing by someone she considered a friend, an equal, a role model. He hoped Buffy would appreciate her for it and for the progress she'd made, remaining stable in spite of such trying times. There was a Faith he once knew who'd have skipped town to a scene more suited to her tastes and desires. The young woman who stood beside him now was almost unrecognisable; changed by time, atonement and an obsessive need to feel loved and accepted. He'd wondered if prison had been the cure or if the defeat at the hands of The First had awoken her to the fragility of Buffy. The girl she had been so determined to strip from her pedestal was now as vulnerable as Faith had ever seen her. It was comforting to see that in spite of all her loneliness, disappointment and—most of all—anger, Faith still cared for Buffy's wellbeing.

"You're a good friend." Angel affirmed with a smile. Faith shrugged, hiding her slight embarrassment at his words. "And friends usually like to do favours for other friends..."

"What do you want?" Faith asked bluntly, retaining a small smirk as she narrowed her eyes at the vampire.

"I want you to take Buffy out."

"On a date?" The confused brunette asked with a comical expression.

"No...not like that—"

"Cus if I wanted to do that I wouldn't need your permission, Mandy." Faith pressed with a smirk that implied all kinds of things. Angel scowled at her, ignoring her comment but forever regretting the fact she'd been a tourist in his mind.

"Take her somewhere public." He continued, making sure to keep his voice low. "Get her around people again." Angel implored to her in a hushed tone. "Just...get her back."

Faith nodded in clear understanding of what he'd said and told silently through his worried eyes.

"Hey, Blondie," Faith called, instantly grabbing the attention of the other slayer, as she stamped out her cigarette butt on the otherwise immaculate, cream-coloured carpet. Eve winced and glared. "Wanna go for a walk?"

* * *

"Well, this is nice." Faith noted to herself, sitting across from Buffy at a quirky, little cafe a few blocks from Wolfram and Hart.

"Yeah, it is. Thanks. I think I needed this." Buffy admitted with a wry smile. "As much fun as planning how not to die in the face of insurmountable evil is—I seriously required a coffee break."

"And yet you got tea." Faith pointed out as she gazed out onto the busy street as she idly played with her empty cup.

"Tea is soothing. I need to be soothed." Buffy explained conversationally as she cradled her paper cup, "Coffee would have me paranoid and agitated. Not good in an apocalyptic, end of the world kind of deal."

"And here's me thinkin' you'd wanna be your usual peppy self."

"Jeez, mom. I'll get a red bull back at the vending machines if you're _**that**_ concerned." She jested playfully. Faith simply smiled, enjoying the banter and the sense of normalcy that came with it. Buffy looked okay—better than okay; she looked happy. Despite this window of social bliss Faith found herself grudgingly wanting to ask the thing that had plagued her mind for the last few harrowing days. However, Buffy had said something while she sat in a state of inner thought and Faith had to ask her to repeat the question.

"I said, 'How's Wood?'"

"Oh. Yeah, he's cool." Faith summarized with a casual shrug.

"Cool?" Buffy queried with a raised eyebrow.

"Well he's alive." Faith offered disinterestedly, "If that's what you mean."

"Yeah..." Buffy sipped slowly from her beverage, regarding the other slayer strangely. "That's a good thing, right?"

"Sure." Faith guardedly replied. She avoided Buffy's prying gaze and focused on the pattern that adorned the tabletop. After a moment of silence she managed to add with all the nonchalance she could muster, "I'm just not gettin' my hopes up. Used to disappointment, ya know?"

"Yeah." Buffy replied quietly. After a moment of awkward silence that dragged on for longer than was possible to bear, Buffy began listing all the things she planned to do after they beat The First. Faith tried to listen, tried to concentrate on the happy imagery the other slayer was depicting for their benefit but the same persistent question begged to be asked.

"...we'll all have an extended vacation..."

"B..."

"...preferably one that lasts forever. In Hawaii. Or..."

"Buffy..."

"...anywhere demons don't exist. Rome? The pope's gotta be like kryptonite to anything remotely evil. And I've never been to Italy—"

"Buffy." Faith snapped, causing the named girl to blink out of her fantastical daydream.

"Why'd you send 'em away?" She hadn't been able to deliver the question as gently as she intended and knowing full well how touchy the subject was with Buffy, Faith didn't expect a kind reply, but it had eaten away at her long enough.

Buffy shot Faith a puzzled look before the other slayer's meaning eventually dawned on her. Buffy's expression hardened frighteningly and Faith felt her blood chill as she mentally cursed herself for ruining a rare moment of peace between the two of them.

"Because there's no reason for them to stay." She stated coldly, "They're not slayers. They're just girls. They're no use to me."

"Jeez, little harsh considering they laid their lives on the line to save the world." Faith argued, taken aback by Buffy's callous justification.

"I'm tired of it, Faith." Buffy spoke sharply, "The waste of life. I won't be responsible for anymore dead teenagers."

"Then why keep the others?" Faith challenged angrily, gesturing widely, "What use is Xander? Or Giles? Heck, it's not like your sister's gonna gain superpowers anytime soon so why keep her?"

"I wouldn't do that!" Buffy exclaimed hotly, "They've been with me through everything I couldn't just throw them away."

"Why not? You threw away all those girls. Girls with potential—it's in the name, B, they had something! Maybe it wasn't up to our standard but half—hell, a fifth—of a slayer's better than nothing!"

Silence fell between the two girls as a hundred things were left unsaid behind either's determined stare.

"It's done now." Buffy declared in a final tone.

"Of course. Because if Queen Buffy says it's so—it is. You're unbelievable." Faith rebuffed with a disgusted sneer, her temper building faster than she'd expected.

"You want their blood on your hands?" Buffy argued heatedly as the exchange of words grew more personal. Her next remark was a childish retort and instantly regretted, "I'd have thought you'd had enough."

The wounded look on Faith's face was enough to make Buffy's stubborn resolve waver, her cheeks reddening slightly at her spiteful comment, but she sounded no apology.

Faith muttered something inaudible under her breath without meeting Buffy's intense gaze.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"If there's something you wanna say just say it" Buffy snapped, rising to her feet and looming over the scowling younger girl.

"I'm fine, thanks." Faith said snidely with a forced smile.

"Say it." Buffy demanded through a clenched jaw.

Faith bit the inside of her lip as she continued to glare up at Buffy.

"Say it!" Buffy demanded sharply. The colour of her cheeks was deepening as Buffy stood confronted by her equal. Faith's short fuse had burnt out. Her face twitched with the exertion it was taking to hold her tongue. Her temper got the better of her and in a flash she was on her feet, towering over Buffy, her mouth forming a snarl as she prepared to release the entirety of emotions that had accumulated over the past week and thrown fuel onto the raging fire of anger that had existed inside her for years.

"I wish I'd just left you to—!"

A tremendous explosion shook the city and both girls fell back into their seats as the cafe's foundations were physically rattled. The slayers exchanged a look of shock and instant understanding, their argument left to the wayside. They jumped from their seats and ran out into the street looking for a sign to confirm their fears.

They soon noticed the steady plume of thick, black smoke pouring up above the streets, smothering the exteriors of skyscrapers that met its path. Buffy took off before Faith could react and had trouble keeping behind the blonde as she sprinted past hordes of shaken and confused pedestrians. Faith cut a route across the usually busy intersection with ease as most of the traffic had come to a grinding halt in the aftermath of the explosion. As she watched Buffy disappear behind the next corner she heard the older girl's exclamation of shock. Faith knew what to expect. She'd lived a life that taught her to expect the worst of everyone and every situation that was presented to her, but part of Faith begged for her natural pessimism to be wrong. She wanted to be wrong.

When she reached Buffy and took in the sight that had the other slayer frozen in horror she realised her private pleas had gone unanswered. The Wolfram and Hart building was in a state of ruin, with nearly half its facade scarred and smouldering with the glow of numerous ferocious fires. Debris and burning fragments of the obliterated structure tumbled down into the street to join a mess of bodies, rubble and vehicles unlucky enough to get caught in the chaos. The obnoxious rhythm of a shrieking car alarm filled Faith's head as she took in the devastation.

"No..."

"Buffy...don't. There's nothing we can—wait!"

Before Faith could stop her, Buffy had shrugged off her consoling hand and ran fearlessly past flame and falling debris into Wolfram and Hart.

"Shit." Faith muttered. Before she slipped through the street-level chaos and entered the shattered remains of the lobby's revolving doors, it amused Faith to note that she'd literally follow Buffy into a burning building.

* * *

Faith coughed heavily as thick smoke choked her airway and prevented her from seeing an inch in front of her face. After several minutes of wandering blindly through the fog of toxic smoke and ash, Faith saw some light. She moved towards it only to be greeted by a roaring fire. She stumbled back from the scorching heat and yelled in pain as her waist connected with something hard and jagged. Ignoring the sting in her abdomen, the determined girl marched through the semi-visible lobby, driven by her growing adrenaline and the nagging panic associated with Buffy's disappearance.

She called the girl's name into the churning smoke and flame that smothered the cavernous ground floor which only caused her to cough and gag as the stench of burning filled her mouth. Her eyes adjusted slightly as some of the smoke began to clear out of a gaping hole above the entrance, only to be greeted by dozens of charred bodies that littered the floor in differing states of mutilation. Faith averted her gaze and reminded herself these were the minions of an evil law firm. It didn't seem to help scrub the gruesome imagery from her mind.

With no sign of the blonde slayer, Faith was forced to go higher. The elevators were totalled and the staircase leading to the upper floors seemed to taunt her with how it hindered her pace. Following the vague sensation that trickled down her spine, Faith ran up several flights of stairs before stumbling and falling hard on her knees when the building vibrated violently as a distant explosion echoed through its burning carcass. Rising to her feet through gritted teeth, Faith carried on upward, ignoring the pain throbbing through both her legs.

Around the 11th floor she stopped. Turning back she stepped down to the previous landing and stared at the 10th level exit. Buffy's proximity had piqued here and began to fade as she moved higher. Without hesitation she kicked the door down, entering a corridor where it appeared to be raining. Faith looked up to find the sprinkler system activated but only barely holding back the flames that licked around rubble and the walls' edge. Pushing through the cascading water Faith eventually passed a room she recognised; only by its size and the singed pieces of paper floating around inside. It was the room they'd all gathered in only hours ago, minus a large chunk of the floor that now sported a huge fissure that led down into the room below. The lack of blood or dismembered body parts gave her hope—if the others had survived they wouldn't be far from here.

She continued around the winding corridor, searching blindly through fire and rain, narrowly missing a collapsing ventilation duct that caused the floor to give way beneath it.

She found Buffy knelt next to a supporting column in an open area lined with offices, the sprinklers having drenched both her and the body sprawled beside her.

Faith's gut lurched.

She couldn't clearly identify the person who lay crumbled on the floor from where she stood—but she knew. Maybe it was the way Buffy was on her knees in such a way that demonstrated a helplessness she would hide from anyone else. Maybe it was her slayer instincts telling her a vampire was near. Maybe it was just too good a melodramatic cliché to ignore. But before even seeing his face Faith knew Angel would be the one to make Buffy look so torn in two.

He looked severely burnt. Half his face was unrecognisable and his clothing was a mess of tattered, singed material that now clung wetly to his blister-covered body. Faith didn't know if the vampire had thrown himself under the sprinklers or if it were just a fortunate coincidence sent from the powers that be; either way he was lucky not to be ash.

"Where are the others?" Faith asked to no one in particular, unable to remove her eyes from Angel's once handsome face.

"They're safe." Buffy mouthed, the words barely making a sound as she stared catatonically down at her one time love. "Willow."

Faith was left to assume what this vague answer meant as Buffy said nothing else. Willow meant magic. And with magic came endless possibilities. Faith felt a rush of relief to know that not all was lost.

"F-f-faith..." Angel choked out; coughing hard from the great effort it took him to speak.

"What's up, big guy?" She smiled tentatively.

"If...if I don't m-make it."

"Shut up, of course you'll make it—"

"If I don't." Angel persisted, ignoring her optimism, "You have my p-permission."

Faith's eyes widened at his words. A smile formed across the unscarred side of his face and Faith let out a single laugh, amazed by her friend's nerve at such an inappropriate time.

"Permission for what?" Buffy asked perplexed as she looked from Angel to Faith expectantly. Faith's mouth hung open uselessly as she tried to find a means of escape.

"We should probably get him out of here." She suggested hastily, appearing instantly guilty.

From out of nowhere a fist connected viciously with her stomach and Faith stumbled back, only to be grabbed from behind, her arms restrained each to a pair of strong hands that held her tightly in place as the bringer moved in again to strike her hard across the face. Through her newly acquired throbbing headache Faith heard Buffy yell, she looked up in a daze, watching the slayer roundhouse kick the bringer in the face as it turned to her. A fourth bringer appeared to her right and kicked her hard in the chest sending her flying away from Angel's vulnerable form.

Faith tensed herself to fight off the two bringers holding her back only to feel the cold edge of a wickedly curved dagger against her neck. She froze, gulping hard.

A figure walked slowly into the scene, steeping around the column where Angel lay and pausing in front of him. The woman wasn't familiar to Faith but both Angel and Buffy reacted with stunned disbelief.

"Well lookee what I've got." Darla simpered in her sickly sweet voice, "Two ripe apples ready to pick."

"You're d-dead." Angel grunted through his pain, staring at Darla with astonishment.

"Yes. That's true. Out of interest was the little brat worth my sacrifice?"

Angel fell deadly quiet. Buffy, on the other hand, stood and squared off against Angel's sire.

"It's The First."

"Oh, wow, ya think?" Darla mocked as she transformed into a perfect copy of Buffy before gesturing at the bringers and surrounding chaos. "Duh!"

The two bringers not holding Faith moved to Angel's body and pulled him to his feet; a process he loudly protested.

"Nuh uh." The First chastised firmly, pointing at Faith's predicament when Buffy attempted to help Angel. "Unless you want her pretty, little neck to separate from her pretty, little head I'd rethink that plan."

"What do you want!" Buffy demanded furiously. "You want me dead? Here I am! Do your worst!"

"Buffy." The First patronised calmly, "Silly girl, I don't want you dead. It'd make this part no fun."

"What...what part? What are you talking about?" Buffy shouted as her fists shook by her sides. The other Buffy smiled slowly and deliberately.

"I want to see which one you're prepared to let die..."

Buffy's heart clenched in her chest as the sentence sunk in, sending tendrils of dread through her soul.

"First we have girl interrupted. She made you live, made you misbehave and when things got too much for her she betrayed you...again and again until it got boring." The First suggested with a casual wave in Faith's direction —who was staring back with so much venom that Buffy shivered. "...or the undead man who took your heart...and your virginity, only to throw it back in your face and try to eat your friends."

"Both of them have hurt you. Both have let you down, made you cry, feel pathetic and stupid. Why you'd want either of them to live is beyond me. But the choice is yours." Smiled Buffy's clone.

The building let out a tremendous groan as concrete and metal crumbled down into the street, taking the wall behind The First with it and forcing a heavy gust of wind through the gaping hole that now existed. Faith thought she heard a hideous moaning coming from somewhere above.

"Oh dear. Looks like the landlords are home. I better make this quick." The First said, feigning worry. Then, to the horror of both Faith and Buffy, the first evil reached out with one of Buffy's delicate hands and a shaft of broken wood flew from a pile of debris, into its tight grasp. "Nifty, huh?" The First grinned evilly, "You think this is showing off...you ain't seen nothing yet."

"Buffy!" Angel cried, his face grimacing at the anguish caused by moving his mouth, "W-whatever happens...don't g-give up...I love you."

"Oh brother..." complained The First, rolling Buffy's eyes as it plunged the stake without hesitation towards Angel's chest.

Faith tensed as she felt the bringer's knife dig into her throat but her eyes refused to shut out the scene unfolding before her. Two pieces of shrapnel shot through the smoke and rain coming to a sudden and violent stop in the bringers' faces either side of her.

The shock of being saved, of being chosen, barely registered with Faith as she watched Buffy move towards Angel next. She moved with such speed that Faith knew she'd save him. Her body rose into a kick that would knock the stake flying out into the gaping hole that framed the scene so perfectly. In her bubble of optimism Faith hadn't noticed the bringer approaching Buffy from around the column. He struck her hard across the face with enough force to send Buffy reeling unceremoniously to the floor. Faith's heart dropped into her stomach.

The stake pierced Angel's chest slowly as the seconds crawled by in all their unnecessary cruelty to extend the dreadful moment. Her horrified shout fell deafly against the sound of blood pumping in her ears. As the bringers behind her fell slack and crumpled to the floor, Faith staggered forward determined to kill The First, even though she knew it an impossible, unachievable feat.

The bringers charged towards her as Angel fell to his knees.

She killed them without effort or mercy.

As she drew level to the monstrosity that stood victoriously over Angel it turned to her and grinned. Buffy's smile that was so alien and welcome back in the cafe was now a taunting mockery of the owner's visage. It made Faith feel sick. She watched helplessly as The First vanished with a flash of blinding light.

Angel dissolved into dust, his skeleton visible for a fleeting moment before disintegrating and scattering in the fierce wind that was now ripping through the hollowed building. The sight so familiar to them both, a casual aspect of their lives and one that was always welcome, was now one of heart wrenching horror and sadness. Faith's insides twisted inside her, her face a sculpture of stubborn denial.

The unnatural howl of the wind was deafening; it took her a few seconds to realise Buffy was screaming.

"...IT'S NOT FAIR! IT'S NOT FUCKING FAIR!"

Faith stumbled over to the hysteric girl, dropping to the floor and embracing her as best she could; the delicate form of the original slayer shaking with each heavy, drawn out sob. Faith tried to comfort her, tried to find the words that would calm her, but her feeble, stuttered attempts weren't even registered by her devastated predecessor. The fact she had been the one to survive The First's cruel game had flooded her mind beyond the capacity to think or process her current situation. She'd had fully accepted Angel taking precedence over her own life. The vampire had atoned for his evils in more ways than she could dream to. In comparison Faith felt like second prize, consoling the girl who had lost out on first.

"This...isn't...real...it isn't...it's not...it isn't real." Buffy choked out, her expression a cavalcade of raw emotion as her suffering tore at the foundations of her sanity.

Faith was surprised to discover the tears trailing down her face but made no attempt to hide them. Buffy lay limp in her arms, turning silent as she withdrew into herself and rocked rhythmically back and forth.

Above and beyond the heartbreaking sounds coming from Buffy's heaving, fallen body, Faith heard the otherworldly cacophony overhead grow to deafening realms of outrage. The building shook as the sky screamed, lamented and roared with fury. Rain fell spontaneously with violent force as lightning snaked across the hastily darkening sky.

The Wolf, The Ram and The Hart had declared war.


	10. The Catalyst Part II

**A.N: Apologies for the lengthy wait. I've had a lot on my plate and only recently found time to finish this chapter. I hope it was worth the delay! As always feedback is greatly appreciated. Thanks for your patience and enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing created by Joss Whedon and his affiliates.**

* * *

**The Catalyst (Part II)**

It took two days.

Two days for the Sunnydale Hellmouth to explode forth an endless army of blood-sucking monsters overnight.

Two days for Wolfram & Hart to transform a quarter of the city into hell on earth.

Two days for the sky to turn dark, as a blanket of crimson flushed the heavens and smothered Los Angeles in an eternal red night.

Two days for riots, looting, fighting and demons to take to the streets and turn friendly neighbourhoods into bloody warzones.

Two days for the LAPD and emergency services to become overwhelmed by the unfolding chaos; the National Guard stepping in to take control of a situation they couldn't even comprehend.

The forces of evil clashed relentlessly in the west of the city and the ungodly sounds from the battle could be heard from where Faith stood. She watched a tank roll along the eerily deserted Wilshire Boulevard followed by a progression of military vehicles. Speakerphones on the latter declared a state of city-wide emergency and ordered civilians to stay at home until they could be escorted safely from the city.

Faith knew better. There was no rescue. It was every man, woman and child for themselves. After everything that had taken place at Wolfram & Hart she and the rest of the gang were emotionally and mentally exhausted. No one could put into words the loss they had suffered, the ally they'd lost – the friend. But there had been no reprieve to mourn the loss of Angel. They still had a mission and it was dedicated to getting as many people out of the city alive by spreading the word of what awaited them if they stayed. They had to fight back against the opportunistic scum bags that had risen to prey on the carcass of this dying city even though most times the effort seemed in vain.

Faith walked past burnt out storefronts, commercial products strewn across the sidewalk with broken glass and the occasional body. The city was in meltdown. It appeared that every foul thing to live in the shadows of the City of Angels had come out of hiding in the wake of the coming apocalypse. The vile joy was unanimous, despite the power struggle taking place between two ancient forces of evil, every creature of the underworld and beyond spoke of The First's approach. She'd seen the brazen confidence in the fights she'd had over the past two days. Seen unbelievable atrocities committed by human and demon alike. Watched normal blue collar families cut out their own eyes in service to their new dark master. On every sneering face, ugly smile and hate-filled laugh she'd witnessed a revolution among her prey.

The monsters knew they're day had come. They knew they were going to win.

Faith stopped outside an unremarkable tavern. The sign above the door said: The Devil's Gin Joint. This was the kind of place she'd look for trouble. This was the kind of dive she'd waste her life in. It only served to grant Faith a huge sense of irony to learn that this was where she'd find Buffy.

"So this is where you're hidin' now." She said, stepping over the bloody mess of demon bodies and vampire dust that lay strewn across the hardwood floors of the depraved little gin joint. The name outside had been less subtle than she first imagined. She ran her fingers across the bar top as she approached the other slayer cautiously. "Gotta say I like the change of scenery. This is my kinda place."

Buffy ignored her; content in sitting on top of the bar with her back to Faith as she stared forward into a panel of mirrors that decorated the back wall. The glass was bruised with web-like cracks and splattered in viscera and blood. The horn of a demon had been imbedded into the mirrored surface causing the owner's head to hover oddly in front of the wall, yellowed teeth visible in its gaping mouth. Buffy's appearance was hidden beneath the hood that encapsulated her golden locks and delicate features. Her reflection was fractured by the broken glass but revealed several strands of dirty blonde hair that framed her face, obscuring her brow with only her nose and tightly drawn lips visible. When Faith tried to angle herself in an attempt to catch a glimpse of the girl's face she turned her violently turned her head away. At this close proximity Faith thought she heard an odd scratching sound just audible under the racket of the small television that blared loudly from its perch above the bar.

"Back to the silent treatment, are we?" Faith asked animatedly. Buffy remained mute and glared straight ahead. "Great."

Resigned to accept her sister slayer's stubborn behaviour, Faith took a seat on a stool two away from where Buffy sat; she felt it best to keep some distance between them. She picked up a beer bottle near her, weighed it hopefully in her hands, and then put it down again in disappointment when she discovered it was empty. She noted surreptitiously that Buffy was cradling an entire bottle of vodka to herself, the majority of its contents already gone.

"Whatcha gotta do to get a drink round here?" Faith asked as she drummed her knuckles on the hard wood of the bar top."You don't look like you want to share. We could always wrestle for it...I'm up for suggestions. Open minded girl like that." She added lewdly with a smirk.

Faith rolled her eyes when Buffy chose to continue to deny her existence. Her gaze flickered around the room, taking in the broken furniture, torn upholstery and a leather clad biker demon pinned to a wall with a pool cue before they settled on the back room; its door swinging gently back and forth on creaky hinges. Buffy took a generous swig from her bottle and swayed slightly.

"Well this isn't a complete waste of my time." Faith mumbled to herself; it was clear by now that she was the only one listening anyway. She hitched herself over the long tabletop, swinging her legs over the other side as she sat to procure the beverage of her choosing. His face caught her eye after several seconds of perusing the shelves. She slowly turned to take in the bloodied body that had lain hidden behind the bar until now. It wasn't a demon. It was the body of man, around his early twenties, and he was clearly dead.

"You...found him..." Buffy suddenly spoke, her words incoherent and lazy due to her inebriety.

"Did...you...?" Faith couldn't finish the sentence. The room was a portrait of the brutal violence that had taken place before she'd entered. There was no sign of grace or skill in the manner the clients of this bar had met their fate. It was bloody and gruesome, as if a wild animal had torn apart the room and everyone in it. It was possible that an innocent bystander could have been caught in the fray. Faith dreaded the idea that Buffy could sink so low, to kill without caution or remorse, to become something so vile and cruel that she perverted everything Faith knew her to be.

"Nuh-uh. Vampire." Buffy slurred. Faith felt an ironic rush of relief at the word. "They took 'im here...I...follow...followed. Hit...hit the...jack pot." Buffy rose her bottle in the air, celebrating her victory with no one in particular.

"You let them do this?" Faith tone was quiet with restrained anger. The countless horrific sights she'd seen in the past couple of days had hastily forced a moral conscience upon her, something new and uncomfortable to adjust to, especially at the present moment.

"He's...got holes...in 'is neck. An' he's...behin' a bar." Buffy continued, ignoring Faith's question and furious tone. "He's a...holey bartender!" The blonde snickered loudly to herself, her head moving down to come to rest against her folded knees as her slumped form shook with uncontrolled laughter.

"Jesus, B..."

"Sorry...in poor taste I guess..." Buffy shrugged callously as she sat back up. The sound of scratching had intensified since Buffy had begun to talk. From where Faith now sat she could see the source of the sound. The scythe stood erect and upside down in Buffy's other hand, as the topmost edge of its blade dug long, deep marks into the varnished wood beneath the slayer. The sound became louder and the back and forth rhythm gained speed as Buffy appeared to be listening to the news bulletin blaring from the television above her. Faith turned her attention to the anchorman on the grainy screen, his urgent tone dragging her apprehensive gaze from the scythe's ministrations.

"-the military appears to be moving west, towards Beverly Hills and Santa Monica, where the vast majority of the violence seems to be taking place. It is still not clear what chain of events led to the bloodshed over the past few days but mass evacuations from areas in immediate danger are being issued. We urge our viewers to stay at home and wait to be evacuated safely."

The news reporter paused as the image in the top left corner of the screen changed to show the remains of a burning skyscraper.

"Meanwhile, the explosion that took place two days ago at a law firm in the central business district, believed to have been the result of an unexplainable chemical leak continues to baffle experts. Contamination in the south west of the city has been the cause of media blackout as the National Guard as closed off an area of some six square miles. However, eyewitness reports coming through, mention casualties in the hundreds as well as strange sightings of-"

The metal box erupted in a shower of electrical sparks and a short burst of flame as a stool leg pierced the television screen like a wooden spear.

"That was sane." Faith noted dryly after a beat.

Buffy simply took another long drink from her bottle.

"It's not like you're the only one who misses him." Faith barked abruptly, riding a fresh wave of anger as her last thread of patience severed. "Why does it always have to be about you? You dated him for less than one percent of his life and you act like you have the right to throw the world's biggest hissy fit!"

"Shut up, Faith." Buffy slurred with calm disinterest.

"No. You need to stop this. There are people dependin' on you to get them through this fuckin' shitstorm. So stop bein' a selfish lil' brat, put on ya big girl pants and get over it — he's dead."

Faith had expected a reaction. She hadn't expected Buffy to move as quickly as she did. Within a second she had found herself thrown viciously back on to the black bar top, glass breaking beneath her as the jagged teeth of half a vodka bottle pressed painfully against her exposed neck. Faith felt the iron grip the other slayer had on several strands of her long dark hair, holding her head down painfully, as Buffy perched above her with all the rage of a wild animal, eyes like thunder.

Faith gulped, wide-eyed as she adjusted to her new position and shot Buffy a cocky grin stained with fear.

"Well...this is intimate." The points of the broken bottle pushed deeper into her throat and she flinched. "Is this how it is from now on?" Her smile vanished as a serious and hard expression transformed her face. "I push, you snap, and someone ends up in the emergency room? Played that game, B, didn't end well for me. Not looking for a repeat."

Buffy's gaze continued to burn down at her, all traces of drunken self-pity gone thanks to Faith's bold sobering technique. Her breath came out in short ragged intervals. Her teeth visibly clenched together as her hair hung in twisted vines around her the snarl contorting the blonde's features. She really did look crazed and beyond salvation, Faith thought with fear and sadness. She waited in the endless seconds that followed, waited for a killing blow or fatal wound, bracing herself as Buffy's face drew closer to her own. Her words came quiet and slow but did nothing to hide her blinding rage.

"Don't ever talk about him like that again or I swear I'll finish what I started that night on the roof. You think you had this special connection to him. That you get a say in how I feel because you think you knew him. You connected over an understanding of how it feels to murder innocent people —paint me jealous." Buffy spat sarcastically. "You didn't know him like I knew him. You were never that close. Angel's dead. Spike's dead." Her fierce expression faltered and the broken bottle moved away from her neck as she paused before continuing. "They're all going to die because I can't stop this. I want to stop this Faith but I can't. I want to stop all of this, why can't I stop it?"

Faith felt the pressure of Buffy's body increase as the other slayer sagged against her, her forehead pressing into her left shoulder. Her quiet sobs shook her petite figure and resonated through Faith as the brunette lay prone between the bar top and her distraught friend, unsure of what to do next.

"I can't take this anymore...it's too much. Too much...pain. It hurts. It all hurts. My head..." Buffy pushed herself up and away from the bar, letting the scythe and bottle clatter loudly to the floor. She stood amongst the monsters she'd slain as her hands clamped to either side of her head. She ran her fingers through her hair, wavering on the spot and wiping at her eyes as her tears came freely. Her face was finally out of shadow and revealed a mask of complete and utter misery. Faith sat herself up and dropped down from the bar, her eyes darting from Buffy to the scythe, deciding her next move very carefully. Buffy was clearly losing her mind and becoming unpredictable.

Faith stepped slowly over to the disregarded weapon and picked it up, her eyes trained on the other slayer but Buffy appeared too preoccupied with her turmoil to notice Faith's action. When she finally did look at Faith her eyes went wide.

"No!" Buffy shouted abruptly, grabbing the weapon out of Faith's hands before she could withhold it. "I need it! I n-need it!" Buffy cried furiously as she shot Faith an accusatory glare. "I need it to remind me!"

"Remind you?" Faith asked in bewilderment, but knew she wouldn't like the answer.

"Of how I failed. How I deserve this..." Buffy said pathetically, her eyes turning downcast to the gruesome sight around her feet.

"Jesus, Buffy..." Faith's tone of disbelief caused the blonde's bloodshot, watery eyes to glance up at her. "You're a mess." Faith shook her head as her hands came to rest on her hips, unable to stop the dark chuckle that left her. She sighed in exasperation.

Buffy stood awkwardly before her, unaware of what to do or say when the moment was interrupted by a large four-armed demon that appeared in the doorway of the backroom. Faith whirled round in surprise only to be met by two left fists that hit her like a concrete sledgehammer. She collided with a table and lay momentarily stunned in its accompanying booth. Her head span wildly as she cradled it in her open palms. Faith steadied herself on her feet, forcing her legs not to buckle as the sounds of a fight taking place urged her to help Buffy.

When she finally looked up through bleary eyes she found the remains of her assailant splattered around the vicinity; its armless, headless torso joining the pile of the previously mutilated. There was no sign of Buffy.

Faith growled loudly as she kicked out at the dead demon and watched it roll limply across the floor.

"Fuck."

* * *

Dawn watched Robin shift restlessly in his sleep as he lay in the bed they'd moved down into Angel's old office especially for his weakened condition. Faith and Gunn had acquired him from the hospital yesterday as Faith had pointed out he'd be safer closer to home. And she'd been right to think so. Dawn had heard them describe the hospital as a chaotic hellhole. The Emergency Room was overcrowded with the casualties that steadily streamed in, bodies lay bleeding out on forgotten gurneys that lined corridor walls, people begged for help to anyone that passed. The usually sterile white walls were occasionally found to be smeared in fresh blood as nurses and doctors rushed frantically through the corridors to the groans and wails of the injured that filled every available bed. At one point, Faith had mentioned encountering a young boy, at least ten years old, huddled in a corner. She'd ventured over to help him but when he turned to face her Faith had recoiled in horror. His face lacked the innocent features of a child, replaced by a monstrous mask of teeth and rough skin; soulless black eyes had watched her placidly as the creature continued to dine on what seemed to be a human arm.

The state of the hospital and thinly spread medical staff ultimately made the mission of extracting Robin extremely easy. They even managed to 'borrow' a few essential medical supplies in all the madness taking place around them. This explained the I.V set up beside him and the bottles of painkillers organised on Angel's old desk; which had been squeezed between the wall and the bed.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Dawn voiced her thoughts as she leant against the door frame of the room in which Robin slept. Giles peered over the top of the large, leather-bond book he was reading. He was sat at a large table covered in various books and texts; everything that had been salvaged from Wolfram & Hart and Wesley's personal collection. Willow sat at the other side of the table, typing confidently on the keys of a laptop she'd been lent by Fred. She'd made no reaction to Dawn's question. "I mean he's been out cold since he got here."

"I imagine in the rush to remove him from the hospital the journey proved taxing for him." Giles explained as he straightened up in his chair, "Time, as they say, heals all wounds. I am afraid time is all Robin needs right now."

"Well I think the drugs are helping a lot too." Dawn added with a lopsided grin. Giles gave a genuine smile and folded his arms.

"Yes, I suppose they deserve some credit too."

Willow closed her laptop and got up from the table.

"I'm gonna go find Fred and see if she can help me with this." She said, gesturing to her laptop before tucking it under her arm.

"Is it anything I might be able to assist you on?" Giles offered, his brow rising with curiosity.

Willow shook her head and smiled politely.

"It's okay. I've been meaning to talk to her anyway."

Giles nodded curtly and gave Willow a thin smile before she headed upstairs.

Dawn carefully watched her walk out of sight before she spoke again.

"She was lying."

Giles turned to regard her sternly and there was an uncertain pause as Dawn worried she'd angered the aging Englishman. However, she was relieved to hear him finally say, "I suspected so, yes."

"Why though?" Dawn asked in a hushed tone as she joined him at the heavy-set table, excited that her assumptions had been affirmed by someone else.

"It wouldn't surprise me if she just wanted to be alone. I couldn't guess how draining the last few weeks have been for her. With Kennedy's passing and now Angel — I think she berates herself for letting him talk her into leaving him at Wolfram & Hart."

"But that wasn't her fault." Dawn said as she rested her chin upon her fist, listening to Giles intently.

"Perhaps not. But I think she's become keen on the habit of blaming herself for all our misgivings of late." Giles said sadly. Dawn was silent for a moment as she mused over his words. She appeared to be hesitating on conveying a piece of information, one important enough to cause her to squirm uncomfortably in her seat.

"What is it?" Giles asked with concern, noticing her uneasiness.

"I hear her sometimes, in her room. She talks to herself." Dawn revealed. She kept her voice to a low hush as if worried Willow would know she was the topic at the reading table. Giles brow furrowed with worry as he waited for the anxious girl to continue. "Sometimes it's too quiet to make out the words. Other times...other times it's like she's having a conversation with someone. Like she's telling someone else to be quiet or having an argument. Yesterday, it was so bad I was convinced she was having a fight with one of you so I knocked on her door."

"And?" Giles pushed, his calm resolve only hinting at the anxiety caused by Dawn's confession.

"It was weird. She went quiet as soon as I knocked. But I could hear her still whispering to someone else. When she opened the door..." Dawn's eyebrows scrunched together as she recalled the event in her mind, "...it was just her. There was no one else in the room."

"What did she say when you confronted her?"

"She claimed it wasn't her. That I must have been imagining things..." Dawn deadpanned, showing she clearly didn't believe Willow's response.

"I see." Giles remained silent for a long moment, cleaning his glasses as his eyes moved blindly in thought.

"Do you think...do you think it's The First?" Dawn offered with breathless expectation.

"Is what The First?" Faith asked as she entered into the hotel, announcing her presence to the room and startling Dawn and Giles from their private conversation. Dawn really hated slayer hearing sometimes.

"We were just saying...that...that..."

"On 2nd thought, don't tell me." Faith interrupted as she dropped a duffel bag of supplies onto the reception desk. "Anythin' involvin' that omniscient S.O.B is never good. I've had enough of hearin' about his handiwork."

Faith sat down heavily on the padded lobby seats with an aching groan and started taking off her boots. She looked over at the table the others were sat at and sighed with relief when her first foot was released from its prison of black leather and rubber.

"My feet are killin'." She clarified unnecessarily.

"Busy day?" Giles asked conversationally.

"Could say that." Faith chuckled humourlessly. She removed the other boot and let it drop carelessly to the floor. She stretched her body out flat on the soft ring of cushioned-seats, still in her denim jacket and pot marked jeans.

"How are things out there?" Giles queried with a penetrating look. Faith's head rolled around from its comfortable position so she could regard him with incredulity.

"You're kiddin' me, right?"

"I'm rarely one to kid." Giles jested coolly, his eyes glinting behind his glasses. After a moment a smirk grew across Faith's tired face and she exhaled a sigh that spoke a testament to the day she'd had.

"Downtown's a mess. Everything five miles around Wolfy 'n' Hart is something straight out of an Alien flick – Long Beach officially has apartments from hell to rent — tentacles obligatory."

"Did you manage to see how the battle is faring?" Giles asked with serious interest.

"I gotta look. Beverly Hills doesn't seem so glamorous when fifty foot demons are kickin' in ya mansion."

"All those celebrities..." Dawn muttered with genuine sadness.

"I personally love the irony of LA's rich and famous being the first to croak while givin' everyone else a head start." Faith admitted with a devilish smile. Giles and Dawn didn't seem to share her optimistic view of the situation.

"And check this out," Faith got up abruptly and slid something out of her sleeve as she approached the table. She sidled up next to Dawn and pulled out a painstakingly crafted sawn-off shotgun causing Giles to jump back slightly in his chair. "Nifty, huh?"

"Ah...please, aim away from the books. And our soft, mortal bodies if you could." Giles said with unease as he eyed the weapon warily.

"It's...a gun." Dawn said lamely, sounding unimpressed. "Buffy won't like it."

Half a smirk graced Faith's face as she held back on some choice remarks she'd of liked to have made at the mention of Buffy. She respected the fact that Dawn was her sister.

"Well what Buffy doesn't know won't hurt her." Faith assured Dawn with a forced smile. "Big sis has other things on her plate right now."

"Sweet shooter, Faith." Xander said with boyish excitement as he appeared from the basement. "Very 'Punisher'."

"See. At least Alex here likes my taste in weaponry." Faith beamed as she punched him playfully in the arm. "Comic book references withstandin'..."

Faith sat down at the table and listened to Xander's suggestions on what she should name her new firearm. She half-heartedly humoured him as Giles interrupted several times, asking on each interval if she was sure both barrels were empty.

"Look. Empty. Happy now?" Faith asked after becoming irritated by the watcher's constant fretting. Giles angled his head as he looked cautiously down each chamber of the shotgun. Once satisfied that neither he nor his precious literature was in any present danger, he relaxed, his head disappearing back behind his large red tome.

"Has anyone seen Lorne?" Dawn asked during a lull in the conversation between Faith and Xander. "I can't believe he's leaving." She added with sullen melancholy.

"He's upstairs. I asked for a favour before he left for his flight tonight" Giles said offhandedly from behind his book as he scratched down something on the notepad beside him. Dawn's nose scrunched up with confused curiosity.

"What kind of favour?" Dawn asked, looking half tempted to wander up the stairs and find out.

"He's just...talking to Buffy." He explained looking somewhat uncomfortable. "He'll be down soon."

"Wait. She's here?" Faith's chair clattered against the tiled floor as she stood without warning.

"Yes." Giles confirmed, eyeing the brunette with mild concern, "Why? Is something the matter?"

Faith let out a snort of derision, as if the Watcher's question was the stupidest one she'd ever heard.

"Well lemme think, apart from wasting four hours duckin' 'n' divin' through Los Angeles' rendition of war-torn Iraq to find her slippery ass, no, nothing's 'the matter'. But when I first found her she was in bad shape nursin' a gallon of Russia's finest paint thinner. I tried to track her after things got dicey but her trail went cold." Faith turned to look up at the second floor, hoping her instincts would kick in and confirm what Giles' had said, but she felt nothing close to her usual built in Buffy locator. Her eyes narrowed in mystification. "I can't believe I didn't know she was here..."

"I'm sorry, if I'd known I'd have told you immediately." Giles reassured her apologetically. He missed the anxious expression that had settled on Faith's face. She hadn't sensed Buffy in the building. She was tired and a little rough around the edges but she could still feel the slayer connection. It was just different. She'd disregarded the strange new feeling as lingering pain from an injury, not the symbiotic link between her and Buffy that she knew off by heart.

Lorne suddenly descended down the left stairwell wearing a trench coat and Fedora with a large suitcase in hand.

"Speak of the horned green guy." Xander quipped, but Giles was already on his feet, looking concerned as he made his way over to Lorne. The demon was clearly shaken. The others headed over to where the pair stood, keeping in hearing distance.

"It's bad." Lorne confessed to the watcher. "It's really, really bad and despite the fact she can carry a note as well as Dorothy herself I don't think there's a wizard down a yellow brick road or any back alley that can fix what's going on in her scrambled slayer noggin."

"In English please?" Faith said with an arched eyebrow and confused frown. "For those of us who don't speak musical."

"Buffy sang for Lorne." Giles explained with slight impatience. Faith's insides tightened as she turned her attention fully to Lorne.

"In layman's terms: Buffy is not Buffy." Lorne explained. He sighed sadly. "She's damaged. Sure, she looks pretty bad on the outside, but on the inside? She's a hollering, screaming tornado of misery and anger. So far she's directed it solely at herself but give her enough time, give her the slightest push and all that self-loathing and primal rage is gonna come firing out at one of you. And believe me I don't wanna be here when that happens."

The other three exchanged dark glances at Lorne's revelation and Faith shuffled impatiently on the balls of her feet.

"That's hardly news..." She said bitterly, gaining suspicious looks from Giles, Xander and Dawn. To defuse their apprehension she added, "...still seems dramatic you leaving like this."

"I'm leaving either way, Gorgeous." Lorne confessed as he ruffled his coat. "Since everything with this week's apocalypse and...Angel. This city just isn't for me anymore."

"Plus I got a taste of the high life at evil attorneys 'r' us." He said brightly, looking nostalgic. "Being an agent to the stars made running Caritas look like...well...like owning a karaoke bar." He admitted. "L.A's not really L.A without Hollywood and since it's pretty much burnt to the ground by now I think I should try other avenues. Maybe San Francisco."

"Suit yaself, Jolly Green. Best of luck. But for the record I'm not scared of Buffy. I can deal with crazy and angry. There was a time I spoke both fluently."

Lorne looked unconvinced as he placed his suitcase on the floor.

"Honey, bravado aside, trust me on this, you're not prepared for what she's cookin'."

"Either way I'm not gonna keep my distance just cus she might explode her feelings all over me." Faith retorted stubbornly, gesturing animatedly.

Lorne analyzed the wilful slayer for a long, hard moment before saying a single command.

"Sing."

As Faith gawped at the flamboyant green demon the fear that swept her features was astronomical.

"What?"

"Sing or you don't get visitor's permission." Lorne said bluntly, staring the brunette down.

Faith frowned disapprovingly at the idea anyone could stop her from doing anything she wanted to do.

"Just humour him, Faith." Giles said patiently. Faith's gaze flickered from Giles to Lorne several times before she relented with a sigh. She looked directly upward, her entire body tense as the only song that came to mind left her lips.

"You...spin me right round...baby, right round...like a record, baby..." Faith hesitated due to her obvious embarrassment but Lorne gestured for her to keep going. She finished the chorus through a clenched jaw, "...right round, right round- okay, that's all you're getting!" She snapped, throwing her hands in the air in protest as she willed the blush to fade from her cheeks.

"Wow. I didn't see that coming – an extremely ironic phrase in my line of work." Lorne looked torn between shock and amusement.

"I second that. Dead or Alive. Really?" Faith glared tight-lipped at Xander's remark, controlling her urge to break all of his ribs.

"I'm not talking about the song you idiot." Lorne waved Xander's comment away in annoyance. "I'm talking about what Faith here just showed me."

Faith appeared to be on the edge of doing something rash. The others watched her carefully, taking note of her tense, defensive posture, unsure if she was about to bolt or punch Lorne in the face.

"Go up." He finally said after what felt like an eternity of silence in which he spent regarding Faith curiously; much to her agitation. "But..." He placed a surprisingly firm hand on her arm as she headed for the stairs and forced her to stop and look back. "Be careful. What you say or do around her is going to shape the days to come. Remember that, Faith...or you'll regret it."

* * *

Faith had spent ten minutes hesitating on the threshold of the room Angel had assigned to Buffy. The door stood open, the slither of space between the door and frame revealing nothing in the dark room beyond. She shuffled idly on her feet; a nervous dance she'd practically perfected in the long minutes spent lingering in the hotel corridor; listening for signs of life.

Faith knew she was in there. The slayer connection, however altered, made her certain of that. Like the victim in a horror movie Faith could just sense the presence of someone unseen in the dark suite. Peering through the crack again, feeling uncharacteristically cautious, Faith scanned every inch of the room looking for a familiar face. A sudden flash of lightning illuminated the room for a fleeting moment. Faith's eyes darted around, searching for a silhouette, but she was left wanting. Faith frowned. Maybe Buffy wasn't here.

She had almost convinced herself to try a different room when a second strike of lightning cracked loudly outside the bay windows and this time Faith held back a gasp. She spotted the shadowed features of her friend half-hidden in the furthest corner of the room. The whites of her eyes visible in the flash of light, pupils fixed on the door, staring at Faith, before they descended back into darkness. Before Faith could make her entrance a soft voice called to her from the now dark corner of the room.

"What are you waiting for, Faith?"

Faith felt her hand shake on the door handle. She couldn't explain her frayed nerves or the nagging of her instincts urging her not to step beyond the door. But Faith was a creature of habit; one that was use to making mistakes and living with them.

As she stepped into the room she closed the door behind her, foolishly cutting off the only light source. She felt for a light switch on the wall but when her fingers felt and flicked the necessary switch nothing happened. Faith relented and let her keen senses steer her to the corner she knew Buffy to be hiding in.

"B..." Faith ignored the foreign objects that crunched and splintered beneath her feet, imagining glass and shattered wood, and knelt down beside the hunched form sitting in the corner. Faith's eyes had adjusted enough to make out Buffy's knees pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them. She rocked slowly on the spot. Her perfect cliché of someone losing their mind did nothing to soothe Faith's growing fear.

"I have a secret." Buffy said in a hushed, excited tone. Faith swallowed, staring through the darkness. Faith wondered if she was still drunk.

"That so? Wanna let me in on it?" She tried with hopeful cheeriness.

"Maybe..." Buffy said. Something glistened momentarily between them but Faith paid it no attention.

"Come on, Buff." Faith jested, straining to keep the trepidation out of her voice, "Now I gotta know."

"Okay..." Buffy's voice dropped to a deadly whisper as her face leant closer to Faith's. The glow from another bolt of lightning revealed the scythe clasped tightly in her arms. The blade trembled in her hands as blood trickled through the gaps in her fingers.

"But you'll have to come closer."

* * *

"She's been up there a while. Do you think that's a good sign?"

Giles looked up from the ancient text he'd been engrossed in.

"I'm sure she's fine, Xander."

"You don't think one of us should go check-?"

"Xander." Giles affirmed the younger man with a reassuring look. "If the time comes for which we need...

"Restrain?"

"...intervene..." Giles continued with a sharp look thrown Xander's way. "Then we will by all merits do so. Until then, I have every faith in...uh...Faith."

"He's got a point you know." Dawn concurred brightly. "It's not like she's gone Hannibal on us. My sister isn't sane for many reasons – reasons I won't go into now you understand – but I'm sure the only other slayer in the world can hold her own against a girl grieving for her ex-boyfriend...s.

Willow, who was sat beside her with Fred, looked dubious but remained quiet.

"You're taking this whole situation very well, quite maturely actually." Giles praised the teenager, impressed by her composed behaviour. Dawn shrugged casually.

"I discovered the wonders of the liquor cabinet hidden not so well in Wesley's office." Dawn admitted without shame. "It's amazing how much emotional damage you can take when everything's warm and blurry. Sometimes I forget I even have a sister!"

"Are you drunk now?" Xander asked suspiciously, finding it hard not to find amusement in Dawn's casual confession.

"Little bit, yeah."

"I see." Giles replied, his previous compliment fading to his newfound disapproval. He returned to his book for a moment before adding hopefully, "Is there any Brandy?"

The lobby doors opened loudly causing everyone inside to jump and witness Gunn and Wesley rush inside.

"Hate to interrupt the whole lot o' nuffin goin' on here but we have some bad news." Gunn declared as he and the former watcher moved into the reception, hefted one of the heavier desks and carried it back over to barricade the lobby doors.

"Oh?" Giles rose slowly from his seat, his hands resting on his hips as he regarded their actions with troubling anticipation.

"Neighbourhood's 'bout to go sky high." Gunn explained as he threw open the weapon's cabinet and removed practically all of its contents. "We got uglies comin' in from all sides and the army's doing jack to slow 'em down. We've got a day – max – before this whole block's overrun. But I'd prefer to be out of here in half that time."

"Surely we have more time? They can't be advancing that quickly!" Giles asked incredulously.

"Believe me, Rupert. It's a bloodbath out there." Wesley said as he began to push shells into an automatic shotgun. "Staying in the city any longer would be suicide."

Giles slowly resigned himself to what Wesley had said.

"We need to tell Buffy and Faith. I'll go get them. Xander, take all the supplies you can carry and bring them down here. Willow and Dawn we need to take as many of those books as we can, they'll be invaluable, sort the best from the lot, anything about historically catalogued apocalypses is essential—"

A bone chilling scream from upstairs caused him to pale and stop abruptly. Everyone who had been poised to move into action was now frozen. No one said anything, listening intently in the pressing silence that followed. When the sounds of breaking furniture and animalistic yells of rage filtered down into the lobby Giles snapped out of his daze with wide-eyed fever.

"Intervene! Intervene!"

Xander and the others charged up the stairs and along the corridor. A loud splintering crash echoed from around the corner and as they rounded it, they found a battered Faith sprawled on the floor nursing what looked like a dislocated shoulder. Thick splinters and shards of wood covered the space around her as a ragged hole gaped in the door she'd been thrown through.

"Faith!" Dawn shrieked in horror, moving to help her but finding her progress blocked by the emerging form of her sister.

"She doesn't deserve your pity!" Buffy screamed, pushing her sister back hard. She stumbled to the ground and stared up at her older sibling in speechless shock. The unhinged glare of the slayer swept the company of colleagues that lined the corridor and her scythe twisted as she flexed her fingers around it. She stood over Faith, looking like she might finish what she had apparently started, and then suddenly belted in the opposite direction, whipping round the adjacent corner and out of sight.

"Go after her!" Giles instructed. "I'll cut her off."

Giles sprinted back down the previous corridor as fast as his legs would allow and stepped out onto the upper balcony that surrounded the lobby. He almost collided with a speeding blur of a body. Buffy stopped instantly in front of him, her eyes wide and frightening as she bore her teeth savagely.

"Get...out...of my way..."

"Buffy, whatever you're going through...you don't have to go through it alone. We can help you—let us help you—please! I implore you to see reason—!"

Giles gasped as he found himself falling backwards. Buffy and the banister that ran along the upper floor became smaller and smaller as he eventually crashed against the table down in the lobby.

"Oh my god!" Fred cried in absolute disbelief as she appeared beside Buffy. "She pushed him!"

Gunn, Xander and Willow came into view too, surrounding the vampire slayer, who periodically twitched as she eyed them coldly.

Buffy's head cocked to face them at a sinister angle and a low growl left her throat. Fred moved away in fear. Xander approached his friend, hoping to calm her but instead received a full uppercut to the jaw, his body sailing back into a wall and hitting it with a dull thud. Willow tried to lift Xander up but he appeared unconscious. She gaped at her Buffy in speechless anger and watched as she leapt effortlessly over the banister.

Wesley ran over to watch her sprint out of the lobby.

"She's gone." He said with a hollow stare. His gaze flitted to Giles' crumpled form on the table below and his expression changed tremendously. "God, Gunn help me with him."

"You sure we should move him?"

"I don't know but we can't leave him there!"

Faith barely registered the voices of Gunn and Wesley in the lobby below. She had witnessed everything. Willow turned to see the remaining slayer standing silently behind her.

"Faith, are you...what...what happened in there? Why did she do this?" Willow asked frantically as she knelt by Xander's unconscious body.

Faith looked at her with a sense of detachment, hovering like a ghost in the middle of the corridor. Cuts and vicious bruises littered her pale complexion. She wiped away a trail of blood seeping from a gash on her cheek and didn't bother to wince.

She moved over to Dawn, whose expression would have been comical in any other situation.

"She left. She left us." The teenager was rigid in frozen horror to what she had just witnessed. She spun round to confront the others. "She's outside...she'll be outnumbered...sh-she...she'll die! We have to go after her! We have to help her!"

The choked sigh that came from Faith caused Dawn to pause in her panicked pleas and regard the only slayer present. What she saw made her gape without discretion.

Faith was crying.

Streams of some silent pain ran down her cheeks, her face contorting as she sobbed. Willow had forgotten her goal of reviving Xander and now stared, perplexed by the sight taking place in front of her. The scene was alien to both girls and neither knew how to react. As Faith sunk to her knees against the carpeted floor and her sobs grew louder, Dawn did the only thing that made sense. She walked cautiously over to the fallen slayer, knelt down and hugged her. To her complete surprise the slayer embraced her back and cried without restraint against her shoulder. Dawn looked over Faith's shaking shoulder to Willow, eyes wide in fear and astonishment as she mouthed, "What the hell?"

"Faith..." Willow tried, her brain still adjusting to the concept playing out before her. She asked her earlier question with greater urgency. "What happened in there?"

Her words didn't receive a reply and served only to intensify the heartbreaking sobs that racked Faith's body.

Fred stepped towards them and bit her lip. She fit Willow with a worried look and asked,

"She's not coming back, is she?"


	11. We All Fall Down

**A.N:** **It's been a while and I apologize to those who've supported this story so vehemently. Instead of posting one huge chapter I've decided to cut it in two so you get a dose of this story sooner and the next chapter within a week. Hopefully that will sate you, guys.**

**I shall shut up and let you read. I hope you still think I'm worth reviewing despite the long gap in updating!**

* * *

**We All Fall Down**

The ground was harder than it looked and Willow noted this when she materialised ten feet above a bed of tall, untamed grass, before plummeting helplessly against it.

Her arms barely rose in time to absorb the bone-jarring impact. Her head pounded a disorienting beat deep in her skull as she willed the stars in her field of vision to dance away. With a groan, she pushed herself achingly up onto her elbows, and then turned with another great effort to sit on her haunches. She sighed as her body protested against such simple exertion and let her spinning head rest for a moment before reopening her eyes.

The charred remains of a human body sat slumped directly at her feet. Willow made a sound somewhere between a gasp and a scream that got caught in her throat. She clasped her hand over her mouth in horror, eyes watering at the prospect that the gruesome corpse could be anyone of her friends.

Something rustled in the foliage behind her.

"Well...that was pleasant." A head rose through the stems of green, revealing a familiar face that peered around at the crash zone before settling on Willow. "Is everyone okay?"

Willow pushed herself through the waving stems of grass and hugged Xander tightly, ignoring any discomfort the sudden movement caused her.

"Hello to you too." Xander said, clearly taken aback. Then he hissed in pain as Willow hugged tighter. "I think I'm damaged." Willow removed herself from Xander as if he'd been on fire.

"Will, why so jumpy? We're good. Slightly bruised and dirty but not deeeead guy behind you." Xander froze with fear as he finally caught a glimpse of the smoking body that stood out as a grisly, blackened stain in an otherwise lush, green environment.

"Yeah. I noticed him too. I thought for a moment it could have been you." Willow's face darkened. "We need to see who else made it."

"That's odd. It's daylight." Xander observed as he got to his feet and helped Willow to hers. The sun was pouring through the rows of evergreen trees that towered around them. The sky was bright blue, with the odd wispy cloud — not a drop of the dreaded red mist for miles around.

"Yeah...I was afraid this might happen." Willow murmured with quiet apprehension. Xander was about to question the Wicca's puzzling statement before spotting the fallen body of Faith beside nearby evergreen.

"Faith!" Xander jogged over to the prone form of the slayer resting against the towering fir tree. He knelt down to shake her lightly and after a moment her eyes focused groggily on the smiling man. "She's okay, Willow. Try and see if you can find Wood."

Faith was suddenly on her feet.

Xander fell to his haunches from the abrupt action. Her hair hung in clumps around her face obscuring her features, but Xander felt her watch him as he rose to his feet.

"He's dead." The callous snap of Faith's voice made Xander stop cold.

"He..." Xander started to ask then quickly backtracked when Faith raised her head enough to reveal the tear tracks that ran down from her red-rimmed eyes. "Faith. I'm...I'm sorry."

"Where is she?" A shiver rattled through Xander's spine. The murderous look on Faith's face was enough to register her meaning.

"Faith. Don't. Whatever you're about to do — Don't."

The slayer barged past him without resistance, marching across the foreign land, scanning the area with all the fervour of a prowling lioness. Her head was thrown back and forth as she looked left and right with wild determination.

Willow appeared beside Xander accompanied by two marines who looked a little worse for wear but stood to attention all the same.

"We need to find Buffy." Xander ordered solemnly, his eye fixed on the aggressive strides of the once rogue slayer. The once very homicidal and less friendly slayer.

"Well obviously." Willow retorted not understanding his serious tone.

"Before she does." Xander gestured to Faith and her current frenzied search. She lifted the body of what appeared to be an unfortunate marine, glared at the face of the fallen soldier with dissatisfaction and dropped the body carelessly to the ground.

"Oh." Willow shot Xander a quizzical glance, all the while watching the dark-haired slayer's disturbing behaviour. "We're there again? How many times does she have to punch a girl? We get it, Faith. You don't like Buffy. You have a troubled past. There's friction. Change the channel, sheesh." Willow finished her rant with a shake of her head.

"Robin...didn't make it." Xander explained quietly.

"Oh, god." Willow looked overcome with sadness for a fleeting moment, before a wave of panic overpowered the emotion. "Bad! Very bad! I'll find Buffy. You keep Faith...away."

"My ears are burning." The two friends froze at the familiar voice. They turned in unison to find the runaway slayer moving towards them through the tall grass. "What are we keeping little slayer Faith from?"

"Buffy. You're okay." Xander breathed, torn between looking at the slayer before him and the one stalking around some distance behind him.

"You almost sound disappointed, Xander." Buffy chastised with an air of curious wonder.

"No. Not at all. Just uh...you might want to hide."

"Hide from who—?"

Xander and Willow jumped apart as a blur of screaming fury rushed between them and tackled Buffy to the ground. The slayer was taken unaware and fell gracelessly to the ground. She moved to defend herself but was pinned by her attacker as the first fist hit her full in the face, causing the back of her head to connect violently with the hard earth beneath her.

"IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!" Faith screamed. Her voice was strained with such anger that each word formed a strangled screech that transformed the girl's usually husky tones into raw emotion. "HE DIED...BECAUSE. OF. YOU!" Her fists thudded down with each bellowed word, continuing to rain blow after blow, Buffy's head snapping back and forth to the side with each unrestrained attack.

As Xander and the two marines struggled to pull Faith away, he heard a gurgling laugh rise up from the bristly stems of grass beyond his squirming friend. Buffy arched herself up into a sitting position, her broad, amused smile creating an ugly contrast to the state of her beaten face. Blood was smeared across her cheeks and mouth.

"That the best you got?" Buffy jeered. She wiped the stream of blood gushing from her nose away with the back of one hand and revealed the grin of a predator. She looked positively aroused by Faith's previous assault. She looked up at her darker half through bruised eyes and fluttering lashes and slowly said, "Cooome on. Hit me like you mean it!"

Faith's leg snapped out in a flash of primal aggression that slammed Buffy's chin backward and sent her body crashing to the ground.

"Closer..." Buffy sighed with all the petulance of bored child, "but I still bet mommy did better than that..."

"I'LL FUCKIN' KILL YOU! I SWEAR TO GOD—!" Faith lunged forward as her restrainers firmly dug their feet into the surrounding foliage, hoping to anchor themselves against the unbridled strength of an enraged slayer.

"SHE LED THEM HERE!" Faith spat, frantically turning on Xander. "YOU SAW THE MAP! SHE PLANNED THIS! SHE WANTED THEM TO FOLLOW HER AND SHE FUCKIN' WALKED THEM TO US!"

Willow moved swiftly towards Faith and waved her hand in an odd fashion in front of her face. Faith's taut, angry features dissolved into a tired frown, her body falling slack, appearing to lose consciousness as Xander and the two marines felt her slump down instead of outward.

"And I thought we were gettin' to be all chummy again. Bummer." Buffy said with mock melancholy as she regarded Faith's magically sedated form. She staggered to her feet, before cricking her neck with a quick movement of her head. "At least her punches have improved."

"Buffy. Shut up." Xander snapped abrasively. Buffy's face took on a whole other presence that made the one-eyed commando feel as small as an insect. He gulped despite his defiant stance, staring straight back at the glaring Slayer. "You've done enough for one night."

"Have I really?" Buffy took a step forward through the grass and Xander found himself reflexively taking one back. The saying if looks could kill didn't quite sum up the way the blonde's eyes burned into him.

"We had a base before you came back. We had the National Guard and tanks and apache helicopters. Now we have a field in the middle of nowhere, thanks to you." The scowling man accused.

Buffy took another step toward him but this time Xander willed himself to stand his ground. The young woman that glared up at him now, who resonated with primal power, who looked absolutely terrifying, was not the girl he'd befriended those years ago in the halls of Sunnydale High. This was someone new. For the first time since the events in L.A. he finally saw what Faith had raved and ranted about for so long.

"Tonight was going to happen." Buffy spoke in an unnervingly calm manner. Xander's gaze was repeatedly drawn to the Scythe twisting slowly back and forth in the slayer's hand. "I just made it happen sooner than later."

"God...Buffy why would you do that?" Willow's gaze was fixed on the swaying blonde with incredulous disbelief.

Buffy remained still for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly.

"Seemed like a good idea back in Idaho..." The blonde reflected in a faraway voice. "But then...people were dying, civilisation as we know it was burning to the ground and I couldn't even get a drink without something monster-shaped ruining my day, so maybe I just wanted a change of scenery."

Willow, Xander and the two soldiers regarded Buffy with unease. The slayer rolled her eyes languidly.

"It was a joke. You guys used to be more fun." She huffed. "The First has wiped out every city, town and home on the West coast. Now it's moving East. Those demons came from every direction. They knew exactly where your little tea party was and nothing would have stopped them." Buffy pursed her lips together in a thin line as she grew suddenly tense. "Not even me."

"I just thought I'd beat them to the massacre." She continued with a shrug, her expression raw and honest.

"You could have given some warning." One of the soldiers spoke up with anger evident in his voice. "We could have prepared for the attack – called in reinforcements!"

Buffy regarded the soldier coolly. "It wouldn't have made much difference."

The battle-hardened marine glared at the blood and dirt-covered girl with silent malice before stalking away to fume in privacy at the losses he'd suffered only minutes ago.

After an uncomfortable silence Xander shifted his gaze over to the unconscious form of Faith, who hung between the shoulders him and the other marine.

"Is she going to be okay?" He asked his Wiccan friend.

"Yeah, she'll be fine. It's just a sleep spell. Nothing major. She might wake up with one hell of a migraine but that tends to happen when you switch off that much anger in an instant."

"Okay, good." Xander nodded, allowing the marine to take all of Faith's weight as he rested his hands on his hips. His brow furrowed as he formed a plan of action. "We should look for other survivors. We still need to find Amy and the other magical personnel. There could be more troops dotted around this area too – find them. "He instructed the group. "If not, take the supplies and weapons from the dead—"

He paused to watch Buffy slink off into the grass, apparently caught up in her own little world.

"—we need all the help we can get." He frowned. The marine laid Faith's limp body carefully on the ground and made his way over to his comrade, no doubt hoping to gain his help in the search for friends in arms.

"We should probably find out where we are. Something tells me we're a long way from Salt Lake City." Willow added with an apprehensive expression.

"Did you narrow down our drop off point or just take a guess?"

"Mostly guess work." Willow admitted, fidgeting with her hands. "It was a lot of people to teleport at one time and I've never really attempted anything like it. On the side of positive things — not in outer space! I count that as a kudos on my part." She argued with a lopsided grin.

Xander looked slowly around at the foreign landscape, taking in the sheer beauty and scale of the area for the first time. Forests of coniferous trees covered the land up to the distant horizon, like a great green rug, blemished with the odd lake or jutting hill of grey stone. Far off to his right he thought he saw the twinkle of lights, where the topography of the land was less densely forested.

"Oh! Wait!" Xander exclaimed suddenly as he rummaged around in one of his many jacket pockets, and eventually pulled out a chunky, black cell phone. "This thing has inbuilt GPS. If I can connect it to...uh...a...uh..."

"Satellite." Willow supplied.

"Yeah, one of those, then I should be able to find out our location!" Xander finished, sounding torn between both hope and uncertainty.

He stood with the phone raised above his head, peering up at the screen as he waited for a response from the device.

"Come on...come on..." He squinted at the device as the descent of the sun glared brightly in his face. "Bingo!"

"You found it?" Willow joined him, urged by her curiosity. "That was quick. So where are we?"

For a moment, the redhead thought Xander looked rather pale in the sunlight.

"Well we're not in Utah anymore..." He said in a raspy voice.

"Okay...then where are we?" Willow tried, beginning to feel nervous while trying to read Xander's face.

"Er...much more...North." He replied. His unhelpful vagueness agitated Willow and she crossed her arms across her chest.

"Like...North Dakota?" She ventured hopefully.

"Not quite."

"Where then?" She demanded, growing more antsy by the second. She finally grabbed the cell phone out of the grasp of her catatonic friend's hand and read the screen herself. Willow's eyes went wide.

"Canada?"

"Canada." Xander repeated.

"I knew there was a margin for error but...I must have miscalculated."

"Maybe just a tad." Xander said, a smile finally breaking across his face at the ludicrous nature of their situation.

"Still," Willow sobered from her initial shock, "not in space."

The soft, rhythmic crunch of footsteps through the grass caught their attention and the two friends looked up to find the soldiers had returned alone. When Xander asked if there'd seen any sign of other survivors they shook their heads in sullen silence.

A shimmer of red caught his eye and he jumped out of his skin when he found Buffy silently standing a foot away from him. He hadn't heard her approach. The slayer, swaying hypnotically on the spot, treated Willow to an odd stare.

"I found Amy."

* * *

Faith was roused by voices nearby. Her eyes opened slowly and the effort of turning her head to follow the sound of heated conversation caused a lightning bolt to explode against her skull.

"Jesus...not doin' that again." She hissed through gritted teeth. She'd never experienced a headache this bad — and she'd had plenty of experience in the field. Slowly the images of recent events came to focus, she remembered watching Robin throw himself over the edge and her migraine was soon quelled by the greater pain throbbing dully in her chest.

"Oh, good. You're awake."

At first Faith thought the voice originated from the original pair that had woke her up, but as she tilted her head in the direction of the speaker she could still make out the muffled argument taking place somewhere close by, but not in the immediate room. With immense concentration the pained slayer focused on the blurry form sat beside the bed she found herself in.

"Was starting to think you'd gone into another coma."

Faith forced herself to roll away from the irritating sound that echoed nauseatingly in her head. She pushed her aching skull back into the comfort of her pillow.

"I suppose I deserve that." Buffy continued with a sigh. "But we really don't have time to sulk."

"He's dead, Buffy."

"A lot of people are dead, Faith." She retorted instantaneously. "More people than you can imagine...I know. I've seen most of them die."

"So have I." Faith said, her voice sounding croaky but forceful. She pushed herself up to her haunches, managing to stare defiantly at Buffy through watering eyes. "The Church of Latter Day Saints didn't exactly spring up in the neighbourhood from hell. I watched that city turn to shit, I watched people die, I-!" Faith stopped herself as her anger began to get the better of her again. She took a long, deep breath and continued with a softer edge to her voice, "He helped me forget."

Buffy watched Faith draw her arm across her face, still unable to see her features. A sad sigh rattled out from Faith's lips and she finally turned to face the other slayer. She winced when she noticed the deep, red line that horizontally divided the bridge of Buffy's nose; standing out prominently on her face against a history of a hundred other faded scars. Despite the shadow cast from her hood, Faith could also make out the yellow and purple bruises that marred the blonde's otherwise ashen complexion.

"I've come a long way with the whole rage thing. I should have handled it better. I shouldn't have...taken it out on you." Faith murmured sadly, almost whispering.

"I don't always seem to cope so well with my emotions." Faith chuckled hollowly. "You may have noticed that about me once or twice."

"Yeah. It's kind of subtle." Buffy replied, straight-faced. Faith couldn't help the smile that graced her otherwise sad features. The blonde copied the action but it came across strange and detached.

"But I was angry – am angry at you." Faith continued. Her smile was replaced by a mix of complicated emotions; somewhere between rage and relief. "You came back. But it wasn't in the nick of time or when we really needed you. I was barely holdin' it together. Willow was crazy as shit. Xander was drinking like a fish. Every day there were a few more dead soldiers and the only thing keeping me sane was him. He loves...loved me." Faith swallowed hard. "It was a pretty effective distraction."

"Ever the romantic–"

"And then you strolled in." Faith said lowly, shutting Buffy up. "You came back and you brought all the baggage – yours and mine." Faith paused to let her words sink in a little deeper. Buffy had no remarks left to make. "After everything back in L.A...I...I pushed you away. I had to, to survive. You come back like it's nothing, like there's no bad blood between us and suddenly he's not enough." Faith spat the last part, as if the truth left an unpleasant taste in her mouth. "I'm angry cus you made me forget how calm I felt when he was around...and he was gone before I got the chance to remember."

"I'm sorry." Buffy whispered after a minute of silence.

Faith heard the sincerity in the other woman, felt the weight of that word hit her like an iron wall and was forced to blink back tears that threatened to well at the corners of her eyes. It was an apology that spanned across not just the events in Utah but every ill-fated action between them since the fall of Sunnydale. Back then Faith would have scoffed and slapped the apology aside in her stubborn way, as if deflecting a heinous insult. She would have denied its heartfelt meaning, or at least ignored it, and ties between the two of them would have been all the more threadbare for it. But she had learnt a lot since that dark day. She had come to better understand what kind of person she was, what she was capable of and how much she had changed for the better through the experiences she had shared with the newfound relationships she had built.

The distant look in Buffy's haunted visage spoke volumes for what she'd gone through in the past few months. Faith knew her younger self would have relished this new and unstable Buffy Summers. The Faith of her earlier youth would have run away with the older slayer, seen the horrors and atrocities of Armageddon and laughed as they spun a path of reckless violence from state to state. Part of her still found the notion exciting.

But that Faith was gone. She'd crushed her down into the dark, put her behind bars and learnt to be responsible for her actions. Because it was right. Because it was her only hope. And because she craved Buffy's forgiveness.

Seeing the cause of such penance corrupted to what she was now, a mirror of everything she'd strived to outgrow — irrational, temperamental, filled with rage and madness — was a blow that Faith had struggled to accept.

Looking at Buffy now, Faith wondered how it must have felt being the one to control the other. Her brow furrowed as she realised it was her turn to save her sister in arms; to be the reason to change for the better and remember the good.

"You okay?" Buffy asked with a curious quirk of her hooded head.

Faith shook out of her fog of contemplation and sighed.

"Sure. Five by five, right?" She answered to the room whilst making it painfully obvious she couldn't look the older slayer in the eye.

"Faith..."

"Don't sweat it, champ. I can deal. This isn't even the worst day of my life." Her crooked smirk didn't quite dimple her cheeks. "Apocalypse and all – I can prioritize."

Buffy pushed back into her chair, frowning, but made no attempt to stop Faith as she got grudgingly out of bed.

"So," She stretched and flexed expertly in front of a curtained window before drawing apart the material to look outside. "Where the hell are we?"

"Regionally or Nationally?"

Faith frowned at her strange response.

"I was thinkin' more along the lines of why I'm in a log cabin and why everyone outside is sportin' khaki shorts." She clarified, scrutinizing the strangers parading around a large wood-fed fire. She noticed several other cabins of similar size to the one she and Buffy were currently residing in dotted about the clearing in the woods. Beyond these small manmade structures was mother nature in all her wild glory, with no other sign of civilisation for miles around.

"It's a holiday camp." Buffy explained matter-of-factly. "Kids learning to love the environment or some crap. The camp leader's a nice guy. Talkative in an annoying, 'I-want-to-stab-you-till-you-stop-moving-your-stupid-mouth' kind of way, but nice."

"Yeah. Maybe best you refrain from any murder right now." Faith said sarcastically as she continued to observe the children and young teens outside. "What else do you know?"

"There's no phone. No service to even connect a phone to. No internet. No TV and no will to live." Buffy gushed with barely veiled contempt for the situation she presently found herself a hostage to.

"Never been to camp before?"

"Have you?" Buffy accused back, pulling her combat knife from her boot as she began to run its sharp edge against the scythe.

"Touche." Faith conceded, scrunching her face together at each unpleasant screech of metal grinding against metal. "So is this a good thing or what? Do we trust these people?"

"Do we trust the thirteen year old boy scouts? Around us...not with their hormones, no. But I don't sense a children of the corn event on the horizon."

Faith still looked on edge. She continued to peer suspiciously out the window. A group of around twenty or so scouts began to sit around the large campfire. Two noticeably older individuals, wearing specialised baseball caps with the camp's logo, appeared to be chaperones or guides.

Faith turned her attention to the sound of arguing once again as it returned with greater gusto and volume through the cabin wall. She could faintly recognise the two voices as Xander and Willow.

"Sounds ugly. What's all that about?"

"Amy." Buffy replied stoically.

"What about Amy?" Faith asked tentatively.

Buffy drew the knife slowly across her outstretched throat and made a brief, disturbing sound.

"Shit. I never really liked that rat." Faith confessed. "But still...let me guess – Red feels she's too blame? Declarin' a boycott on magic and all that crap? She wigs out over the smallest mistake these days. Though...this is slightly bigger than turning a tank into a salamander..."

"It's not just her." Buffy explained. "The other magic-inclined types who helped with the spell – they're dead too."

"How do you know?" Faith's eyebrow rose curiously.

"We found them." Buffy said flatly, sliding her knife back into its rubber sheath. A small smirk crept across her face as she sat back up, her eyes shimmering with curious excitement. "Extra crispy..."

A loud knock made Faith jump back from the window with alarming speed. Buffy remained seated, placidly spinning the scythe against the wooden floor on its stake-end. The knock came again, this time accompanied with the deep, accented voice of an unknown man.

"Hello in there? Everything okay?"

Faith stepped towards the door cautiously, before turning the knob and opening it just wide enough to peer out. A large man, well over six feet tall and immensely broad across the shoulders, beamed down at Faith as he framed the doorway, causing her to open the door further just to see him clearly.

"Oh, good! You're up and okay! Your friends said you'd had a bit of an accident up in the hills, gave them quite the fright, eh?"

"Uh..."

"Gotta be careful up here, dear. It's a treacherous place if you don't know what you're doing and that's not even taking into account the wolves and bears that are keen around these parts."

"I..."

"Gosh, I forgot to introduce myself! Look at me babbling on without making proper formal introductions! What kind of scout leader am I?" He let out a deep, bellowing laugh before offering a hand almost twice the size of Faith's. "I'm Mr Rushman, camp coordinator and leader of the Beaver Wood Boy Scouts Association. But you can call me Jeff."

"...Faith." The shaken slayer offered nonplussed as she shook Jeff's gargantuan hand briefly.

"You alright there, Miss Summers?" Jeff asked brightly as he stepped further into the room, his towering form making Buffy seem ridiculously small in her seated position. The relaxed blonde rewarded the man with a cheesy smile of epic proportions. Faith deduced Buffy's reaction was highly sarcastic but Jeff hadn't seemed to notice this as he continued unfazed, "Quite the girl this one! Sat with you all day. Wouldn't even leave to join in the singing contest!" Faith's eyes flickered momentarily to Buffy who rolled her eyes to the floor. "You must be quite the girlfriends if she's happy to do that."

Faith exhaled uncomfortably under the shadow of the hulking Canadian. With each passing second that involved conversation with the over enthused giant, Faith was reminded of just how much her head hurt.

"Listen, I..."

"Oh, gosh. I've been talking your ear off and you've probably barely been awake five minutes! I do get ahead of myself sometimes, my apologies." Jeff boomed, slapping a large hand either side of Faith's shoulders. "You acclimatize yourself and you two come join us round the fire circle when you're ready, eh? Have a good 'un."

He gave one last broad smile before marching off, taking immense strides as Faith watched in bewildered shook before closing the door. The sound of the latch sent a wave of relief through her body.

"Wow."

"That was giant Jeff." Buffy informed casually.

"Are we...in Canada?" Faith inquired warily.

"Very astute, Faith. I'd hand you a cookie but they're still baking in my imaginary oven." The blonde slayer quipped with a challenging stare.

"Don't get cute." Faith glowered as she folded her arms and sat back onto an adjacent bed. "So Witchy Red really packed a punch with that spell. Where exactly in the great white North are we?"

"We don't know."

"What?"

"Xander's phone died before he could pinpoint our location." Buffy explained as she stood swiftly to her feet, causing her hood to fall back between her shoulder blades. "Makes the journey to come all the more interesting, don't cha think?"

"Sure." Faith said, not returning the giddy smile that had settled on the older slayer's face. Without her hood up Buffy almost looked her old self as locks of golden hair tumbled down around her face. If it wasn't for its dirty and dishevelled state Faith might have been wholly convinced by the illusion.

"They got showers here?" Faith enquired as she leant further back on the bed, enjoying the minimum amount of comfort and support it offered her aching body. "You look and smell riper than a Grogak and they sweat bile, B.

"Thanks." Buffy narrowed her eyes in a way that was only partly intimidating. "And no. But I'm told there's a handy little creek nearby that you can go splash around in. I can show you where it is. We could compare battle scars...might even let you wash those hard to reach places. Could make for an interesting night..." She offered, her head tilting to the side as she smiled easily at the other slayer.

Faith felt herself become unbearably conscious of how fast her heart was beating.

"Come again?" She asked bemusedly, struggling to keep in control.

"You heard me." Buffy purred quietly, stepping forward to lower her hands either side of Faith's legs as she bent down to draw eye level with the other slayer. "Just me and you..." Her hands snaked further up the bed, drawing her face closer to Faith's. "...alone...wet..." She was so close her nose was almost brushing Faith's own as she found herself dumbfounded under the intensity of her sparkling green eyes. Buffy bit her bottom lip as her eyes travelled slowly up Faith's torso and when she finally gave eye contact she drew out the last word lasciviously. "...vulnerable."

Faith's jaw was slack. Her eyes darted between Buffy's, searching for a clue on what to do next. Her heart was beating furiously, she couldn't breathe, her palms were clammy to the touch; her left leg was beginning to twitch in the yawning silence that contradicted the electrifying proximity of the two slayers.

Buffy ducked her head and let out a snort of laughter.

"God you're easy." She chided, pushing herself up from the bed and standing over Faith. "What's the matter, Faithy? You look flushed." Buffy teased much to the other slayer's growing chagrin. "Not as fun on the other side, is it?"

Faith merely clenched her jaw and glared but as Buffy continued to don her adorably cheeky smile, she relented and chuckled, despite the unusual blush painting her cheeks.

"You got me." Faith admitted as she shifted on the mattress and ruffled her own hair as she sat embarrassed. "Do you have an Advil in your backpack, Casanova?" Faith asked with a swift change of topic. "I won't last the night if I have to be around that talkative Sasquatch for the next few hours. Never mind the everlasting headache you present." "She added playfully.

Buffy thought for a moment.

"I have a bottle of Bourbon I haven't opened since the invasion of San Francisco." Buffy offered coyly as she searched around inside her backpack. She retrieved the brown bottle with its torn and faded label and shook it temptingly in Faith's direction. The impish smile drawn on the blonde's lips proved contagious as Faith found herself grinning stupidly at the small but warming gesture. She'd not tasted hard liquor nor felt its familiar burn in far too long.

"Well...if you insist."

"I really do." Buffy twisted the cap off the bottle, warily smelt the contents then took a deep swig. She convulsed as the liquid passed down her throat and coughed hard.

"Quite the kick." She rasped, handing the bottle to Faith. The brunette swashed the liquid around for a moment, listening to the bourbon splash about inside its glass prison.

"A toast." She announced. "To fighting The First, not each other. Too many people have died for us to act like...you know."

Buffy simply nodded and a genuine smile settled on her face as she watched Faith gulp down about a third of the bottle's contents. For a moment the pair locked eyes and left a thousand unsaid words between them. Buffy clinked the scythe's head against the bottle and Faith blinked out of her stupor.

"I'll drink to that." The blonde declared cheerfully. "But preferably something that doesn't taste like ten year old paint thinner."

Faith chuckled to herself as she took another drink of the burning liquid.

"What?" Buffy enquired suspiciously.

"Nothin', B." Faith shook her head happily, as she eyed the other girl with a curious twinkle in her eye. "Just nice to see some of you's still in there."

In her moment of jovial nostalgia, Faith took another swig from the bottle and missed the way the other slayer's face had contorted into a mask of unbearable sadness.


	12. Ghost Stories

**A.N: Oh god, I'm glad this chapter is finished. I think in future I won't make public deadlines for chapters. The fates always have other plans to affect my own. Among the myriad of things that slowed the progress of this chapter, the major delay was caused by me completely changing a large section of this chapter because I didn't think it made much sense in terms of the story so far. The result of all my editing has in turn created the longest chapter in the story so far and a genuinely creepy tangent to this apocalyptic tale. **

**Not sure how you'll take the minor revelation in this chapter...just remember there WILL be happier parts to this story. Thanks for all the amazing feedback and your infinite patience – you guys make me want to come back to this and keep it alive. Enjoy. **

**(For best results read in the dark).**

* * *

**Ghost Stories**

**Location: Ontario, Canada**

A large, crackling flame danced within a circle of sturdy, sculptured logs that seated the entire camp. The night had descended with surprising haste and the warm reds and yellows of dusk above the treetops had been replaced with a velvet black ceiling studded with stars. The fire was the only real illumination in the camp aside from the scattering of gas-powered lanterns that hung on wooden posts or from the porches of the cabins. Faith managed to find her way to the circle with relative ease despite the slight throbbing of her head, numbed in no small part by the majority of the contents of Buffy's bourbon. She sat herself down precariously after finding an available space on one of the free logs and took a surreptitious sweep of her new alien environment and its inhabitants. The looming, unyielding trunks of a hundred trees stood like tall shadows, canopies merging into a black mass of spiky leaves that encompassed the camp from above. Beyond that, where the trees allowed, the distant shapes of stars dotted the cloudless, obsidian sky. She sat transfixed for a moment, taking in the sounds of murmured conversation, the crackling static of the fire and occasional bout of laughter that seemed to echo endlessly into the forest. She felt a stupid grin grow on her face and was unsure whether it was the alcohol or her affecting surroundings causing her to come over all sentimental.

She was interrupted from her tranquil state by someone filling the gap beside her, jostling Faith slightly as the new arrival settled in. The slayer was in half a mind to voice her agitation at the person's lack of awareness for personal space until she realised it was Buffy. The blonde sat fidgeting in her new seat, apparently finding it lacking to her required measure of comfort. With some alarm Faith noticed Buffy had decided it perfectly amicable to bring along the scythe to a campfire populated by children.

Faith nudged her in the shoulder and attempted to communicate the blonde's misstep with the intensity of her scowl. Buffy gave her a comical look, clearly not understanding Faith's various faces of disapproval.

"Do you have to bring that thing with you everywhere?" Faith hissed guardedly at the other slayer when she remained clueless for nearly a minute.

Buffy scrunched her face into a bemused look, leaning away slightly to regard Faith as if she had grown a third ear, then let out a short, hysterical laugh that was louder than Faith found comfortable in their present setting. The bottle of bourbon appeared in her other hand as Buffy took a swig.

Sighing exasperatedly at the blonde's outlandish behaviour, Faith turned to her other side, where a young boy of maybe nine or ten sat beside her. He looked both adorable and ridiculous in his scout uniform and was staring around Faith at Buffy; or more precisely, at her scythe. Faith noted with relief that it had been cleaned since the recent battle but could make out fainter stains across the scythe's shimmering blade that glistened treacherously in the light of the campfire. Faith glanced sideways at her nosey neighbour.

"She's perfectly harmless." Faith stated with a reassuring smile. The boy's eyes grew suddenly wide as Buffy began fervently stabbing the stake-end of the scythe at the ground, attempting to spear a beetle that scurried around her feet. Letting Buffy drink may have been a bad idea, Faith thought grudgingly, struggling to remember how much of the whiskey they'd actually drunk.

Faith slowly looked back at the startled boy and laughed nervously. "Mostly."

The boy continued to stare at her in unreadable silence. Faith turned her attention to the rest of the group, watching as more members filtered into the ring, as gaps were gradually filled. She was surprised to see Xander sat across from her on the other side of the circle, bathed in the orange glow of the fire. When she caught his eye she mouthed, 'Where's Willow?', but Xander simply shook his head. From his strained expression Faith knew not to push her luck with further questions.

Despite this, Faith almost found herself enquiring where the two marines from earlier had gone but stopped herself, remembering Buffy had mentioned something about them skulking off into the woods. She'd implied that they probably just wanted time to be alone, away from them and the jarringly happy environment they suddenly found themselves in. The contrast must have felt positively cruel compared to the war they'd been waging mere hours ago.

Faith noticed solemnly that some of the men she'd fought with hadn't been much older than some of the boys she sat with now.

After some time passed the bearded giant who'd introduced himself as Jeff Rushman appeared and seated himself on a larger, sturdier log with the two other adults Faith had spotted from the cabin's window before; one male and one female respectively, looking to be in their late twenties, sat either side of him. Faith assumed they were the other scout leaders.

Mr Rushman gave the group a warm greeting and asked everyone to welcome the three strangers among their ranks. He then explained that he would go around the circle asking each person to say a little about themselves, starting with himself, working clockwise. Each introduction was generally brief and uninteresting but as Xander's turn came closer Faith squirmed anxiously and held her breath when he was finally up to bat.

"Hey. I'm Xander. Mr Harris by day." He laughed dryly and awkwardly continued when he was met with silence. "I'll go ahead and acknowledge the elephant in the room – the eye. Long story short...I fell on a fork."

A perpetual wince shuddered along the scouts whilst Buffy and Faith shared a brief glance. The introductions continued around the circle until they finally reached Buffy. Over thirty expectant faces fell on her. She squirmed slightly in her seat.

"I'm Buffy."

Several snickers around the fire caused the slayer to furrow her brow in mild annoyance. Faith thought she even saw the beginnings of a pout. A stern look from their mentors served to put an end to the chuckling.

Buffy glared sulkily around at her audience and Faith kept a wary eye on the scythe.

"And?" questioned an impatient boy next to her.

"I'm an Aquarius?"

Jeff chuckled pleasantly and shot a polite smile as the blonde shrugged.

"Maybe tell us something about yourself?"

The slayer looked expectantly at Faith, her expression becoming a mask of panic as her mind raced to think of a safe topic of conversation.

"I'm Buffy?" She practically squeaked in desperation as her eyes darted around the ring like those of a trapped animal.

"She's shy." Faith supplied.

"Terminally. The doctor's say she won't make it to Christmas." Xander added with a forced playful grin.

"Well I see you're still toting around that fancy fire axe of yours!" Jeff beamed brightly through his immense beard, clearly trying to spur the coy slayer on. "Maybe you could show the boys a thing or two about cutting wood!"

Buffy didn't miss the pained expression that fluttered momentarily across the younger slayer's face.

"It's better at decapitation really." Buffy informed Jeff calmly. Xander and Faith exchanged a look of horrified panic.

"What she means is..." Xander began slowly, still forming the sentence as he paused, "...for decapitating chickens. Buffy here is something of an agricultural wonder. She just...can't get enough of that chicken...murder – farming. Farming is the word I was looking for in that poorly constructed sentence."

"I see." Jeff nodded slowly as he wore a bemused smile. "And what about that fancy wooden gizmo on the end? Use that to get the eggs out, eh?" He chortled loudly.

"That's for staking vampires." Buffy scowled at the strange man as if he had a severe mental illness.

Xander and Faith exchanged another bug-eyed look.

"...I got nothin'." Xander admitted as he stared helplessly and hopefully at Faith.

"Oooh, I get it. You're tryin' to cook up a ghost story around the fire, eh?" Jeff concluded after several uncomfortable beats of absolute silence. He clapped his hands together in apparent glee, "Been a good while since we had one of those." He chuckled heartedly. "I do love a good spook. We all do, don't we, boys?" He winked at the circle of scouts, receiving a few laughs and nods."I warn you though Miss Summers, I've heard 'em all." He winked again, this time at Buffy. "You'll be lucky to get but a shudder out of me!"

Buffy straightened and fixed the bearded man with an unwavering stare.

"Is that so?"

The ice in her tone seemed to send a shiver around the group all the way to Jeff. His ever friendly smile faltered for a moment under Buffy's gaze. An eerie silence pressed in around them from the surrounding forest, isolating and amplifying the sound of the fire that twisted and flickered in anticipation.

"Do you know the one about the little, lost girl from Sunnydale?" Buffy enquired; her tone dangerously quiet. Faith groaned internally.

"Nope. Sounds new to me." Jeff continued to smile as he crossed his arms. "Try and scare us if you can!" He goaded playfully, lifting his arms to wriggle his fingers for emphasis and raising a few strands of laughter from the ring of boys.

A wry smile cut across Buffy's shadowed features.

"This girl...let's call her...Anne, had a fight with her friends one day, and ran away into a night as dark and cold as this one. She ran and she ran...through streets and fields, on and on until her feet were black from dirt and blood. But there was a war...a terrible war between men and monsters that waged all around her. And every time she stopped, the monsters would come for her. It didn't matter where she was...or how far she ran...sooner or later something would try to..." Buffy faltered and her gaze drifted as if she were reminiscing.

"Now Anne fought hard. She wouldn't go without a fight! No sirree. Anne wanted to live. And she survived." Buffy showed a hollow smile, her teeth white and unnerving in the light of the fire. "But every extra day she gained allowed her to watch a hundred others die. Men...women...children. Death was everywhere. Constant and without mercy." Her eyes rested on a stunned, sandy haired boy sat beside her.

"She watched them die, helpless to do anything, and it tore at her inside." Buffy wavered slightly on her seat. Her fingers dug harder into the log beneath her, the wood groaning under the new pressure. Faith tensely watched the shift in Buffy's body language. The only thing stopping her from dragging the crazed slayer away from the campfire was her own burning curiosity.

Buffy let out a long, very shaky breath. "One day...she came across a little boy. She found him hiding in a church. He told Anne he couldn't find his parents, that he'd been alone in the church for four days with barely any food and that she was the first person he'd seen in a week. He was too terrified to go outside. He begged Anne to help him find his Mom and Dad. Cried and pleaded with her. But she knew...she knew they were already dead."

Buffy took another long pause, apparently steeling herself. When she looked up Faith was close enough to see her eyes were swimming with tears.

"I –A-A-Anne...couldn't take the boy with her, he'd never be able to keep up and there were terrible things outside. Things she wouldn't wish on a-any child." Her words rushed out as if she were trying to justify a shameful action. "So...so she..." Buffy's small form rocked steadily back and forth as the wood continued to protest the pressing strength of her vice-like grip. For a moment the others thought she'd finished but her voice returned eventually. However this time it lacked any remaining thread of warmth or passion. "...she told the boy to go to sleep. She promised everything would be okay...that'd he'd be safe if he went to sleep...he'd wake up and it'd all be a bad dream."

Faith's mouth was agape.

She felt her insides writhe as her eyes focused on some dark, distant spot deep in the forest as she fought the waves of nausea that threatened to overwhelm her. She'd broken out into a cold sweat and dared a fleeting glance at Xander. Noting his expression she realised he hadn't formed the same meaning out of Buffy's words that she had. She swallowed hard, pushing herself slightly away from the other slayer with shaking hands.

Buffy had been silent for a long moment and the atmosphere grew painfully tense as her hooded face gazed into the fire, her lips moving slightly but no words leaving her mouth.

"So what h-happened?" Asked the same sandy haired boy beside her. "Did Anne get away?"

Buffy stared at him for a long moment, the silence now excruciating as no one dared breathe aloud.

"Most of her." Buffy replied in a distant voice. "But she was lucky. She was special." The last word was consumed in a tone of bitter resentment.

"Well then." Jeff suddenly spoke up, clearing his throat. "At least the story has a...uh, happy ending."

The blonde's hollow laugh was almost a snarl.

"Not reaaally." Buffy sang lowly.

"Oh?" Jeff asked looking pale in the light of the campfire as the other leaders exchanged anxious looks.

"The war hasn't ended. All those monsters, all the bad things that chased after Anne are still there. But they won't stay there, not for long. Eventually they'll have no one left to eat, no one left to kill or maim...and when that happens, when every street is bare and every home abandoned, they might just wonder what lies up north." Her green eyes tracked along the circle and met the Scout Leader's wide eyed gaze with palpable intensity.

A tense silence gripped the camp as every pair of eyes but Faith's were wide and staring at the strange, hooded girl who sat idly twirling her axe. An axe that appeared to have seen far more action than any farm could supply; a girl with too many cuts and bruises to be deemed clumsy.

"Mind you if Canadian hospitality is anything like I've heard, maybe everything will be peachy and you'll all get along happily ever after!" Buffy abruptly added with a saccharine tone dripping in sarcasm, accompanied by a bug-eyed broad smile that appeared to do little to alleviate the fear-filled expressions on the faces of everyone else.

"Ha...well. That w-was...that was something. Thank you." Jeff said unsteadily. He ran his fingers through his bushy beard, seemingly lost in a sea of troubled thoughts. "I...uh...I think that's enough ghost stories for...for a while."

He got to his feet briskly, looked unsure of what he meant to do then clapped, causing the group to sit up to attention from their fright-induced trance. "Right, who's for marshmallows and smores?"

The circle of scouts burst thankfully into life as several of the boys cheered and a sudden bustle of activity stirred the previously deathly quiet camp. Friends rushed around to find potential sticks to toast their marshmallows on and paired off to talk.

Faith took the opportunity to lean towards Buffy and pull back the side of her hood.

"Next time," Faith whispered curtly into her ear, "just tell them the one about the killer ringin' the babysitter from upstairs." Buffy faced the other slayer, alarmed by the way Faith's voice had cracked.

Faith stood up and arched her back, weeding out the stiffness that had crept along her spine whilst sitting on the log to endure the trivial life stories of thirty odd Canadian youths; never mind learning a revelation that she wanted to scour from her brain.

"Where are you going?" Buffy asked as Faith began to trudge away from the campfire.

"You don't even realise do you?" Faith laughed bitterly as her eyebrows rose in disbelief. Buffy simply stared and Faith shook her head.

"I'm goin' for a walk. Clear my head." She muttered bluntly, gesturing in no particular direction.

"Alone?" Buffy's eyes narrowed sharply like those of a hawk, but her hands fidgeted with the hem of her jersey like an insecure teenager.

"Yeah, preferably." Without a glance back at the other slayer, Faith strode past the cabins and disappeared within the shadows of the forest.

Xander gave Buffy a perplexed look.

"What was that about?"

Buffy's face disappeared as she hung her head in silence.

* * *

Faith worked her way to the edge of the camp guided by the light of the lanterns she passed. She stood facing the pressing blackness of the forest beyond and slipped between the trunks of ancient evergreens. Her enhanced senses allowed her to step between jutting roots and untamed foliage but as she continued further the darkness forced her to seek out her trusted Zippo lighter. She found it nestled safely in the back pocket of her jeans. With all their wear and tear she was amazed the silvery trinket hadn't been lost to her weeks ago.

After flipping the lid and sparking the flint to life, Faith instinctively searched for a cigarette. She stopped abruptly when she realised her last pack was probably buried under ten feet of rubble back in Salt Lake City. She sighed in irritation, deprived of her harmful habit and distraction, using the pathetic light of the Zippo to guide her aimlessly between the towering fir trees. It hadn't occurred to her how long it had been since her last smoke. The revelation served to make her feel the most vulnerable she'd felt in weeks. Images of Robin's disapproving looks flashed inside her head, his finger wagging playfully as he reprimanded her for the fifth cigarette of the day. The smile that came so easily to his handsome face, the surprising and altogether healthier addiction she'd acquired for his embrace, small moments of genuine happiness in dark days; stolen from her with cold indifference.

She'd felt herself falling for the son of a dead slayer under the shadow of unavoidable armageddon and somehow, in a twisted way, it had been the closest she'd come to an epic romance. Faith found herself currently battling with the irksome urge to cry for the man she'd grown so close to in weeks filled with bloodshed and unrelenting horror.

She pictured the last moments of Robin's life; memorized the way The First had twisted his loving features into a cruel mockery of his adoration for her; and Faith's misery distilled into anger. In that moment she vowed to make the primordial evil suffer a slow and bloody death.

Faith crunched a thoughtless path through the leaf-littered terrain, smothered by darkness on all sides and with only a pinprick of light as her guide. Beyond the sound of her boots treading through damp earth and dry leaves the only sound to accompany Faith was the gentle, scratchy whisper of the pine trees. She lost herself deep in the woods, all the while appreciating the absolute isolation that granted her some semblance of privacy.

Back at the camp her head had been filled to the brim with anger, sadness and countless horrific questions. Buffy's 'ghost story' had left a wholly unwanted impression; one that made Faith draw her arms up across her chest when she played over the subtle details the other slayer had hinted at during her months lost and alone. She had expected things to be nightmarish and inconceivable where Buffy had been but her words had shaken her to the core. However, the thoughts that really wanted to come out and play, the darkest musings of Faith's mind, were being held back by the few remaining strands of sanity she possessed. At the present moment she was neither physically or mentally strong enough to deal with them or what they revealed about the other slayer.

Faith stopped and let a haunted sound escape her throat that echoed loudly into the forest – a cross between a furious scream and a frightened sob. The release served to give her some former sense of peace again and she breathed easier, her chest no longer so tight. She continued her aimless journey.

Distracted by her thoughts, Faith's focus began to waver and her foot caught something unexpectedly, causing her to fall forward and only managing to land on her hands at the last second.

"Shit." She cursed in agitation, beginning to push herself upward when she noticed something peculiar about the ground. She traced her fingers along the root beneath her and whipped her hand away when she felt the cold caress of human skin. Faith stumbled back on her haunches, finding her Zippo and clicking its lever frantically until its tiny flame sparked to life. She held it forward cautiously, throwing meagre light onto the ground a few feet from where she sat.

What she saw made her stomach turn.

* * *

Xander sat numbly between chattering boy scouts, his mind adrift in the events of the past twenty-four hours. The series of events leading to this moment from the second he'd spied Buffy sitting gaily atop that crumbling rooftop in Salt Lake, to the attack on the compound, the revelation of the General's betrayal, Robin's unfair end and the subsequent deaths of those who'd perished in their attempt to escape; it was all too much to comprehend in such a short space of time. To be sat around a campfire in a setting reminiscent of a perfect childhood memory felt surreal and almost mocking when he knew of what waited miles south.

And yet the night had served him yet another bombshell to come to grips with.

It had gradually dawned on him what Buffy had confessed, willingly, to an audience of the most inappropriate kind. He wasn't sure if Faith's hasty disappearance had triggered his understanding or whether the distinctly hollow look that still occupied the blonde's eyes had been the clincher but at some point the fog had cleared and Xander had found himself facing something he couldn't bear to witness.

His brain refused to accept the truth.

He watched as Buffy was passed a long stick with a plump and well toasted marshmallow adorning its tip. For a terrifying moment Xander felt every muscle in his body grow tense as Buffy regarded the foreign object with an intense stare and he was unable to tell if she was trying to recall the object in memories long pushed aside by encroaching horrors or whether she was curious to know if the stick would make a decent weapon.

Buffy didn't move for a good few seconds and Xander suddenly pictured her lunging at him with all the savagery of a human gone mad with grief and violence. He flinched slightly when she finally did move, thankfully choosing to bite the soft candy off the end of the stick in one go. As she chewed with neither enthusiasm nor hunger Xander relaxed.

His attention was drawn to a group of boys who'd been discussing ghost stories and urban myths, apparently undeterred by Buffy's earlier rendition.

"...I heard she eats your eyes and leaves you to die."

"That's nothing. My dad tells it better. He says the witch tears your heart out while it's still beating and makes you watch her eat it."

"That's stupid. You'd be dead before you could even watch!"

"Nuh uh. She puts a spell on you so she can keep you alive to watch the whole thing."

"Yeah right, Sam."

"You calling my Dad a liar?"

"I'm saying it's just an urban myth, doofus. Stop gettin' upset about it."

"There are no myths." The boys jumped, startled by Buffy's sudden and close proximity. "Well apart from Leprechauns...which I've always been kinda bummed about."

"Wha...what?" asked one of the frightened boys as Buffy looked on wistfully.

"This Witch...tell me about her." She demanded without a hint of polite manner.

The boys exchanged worried looks, clearly uncertain whether they felt safe this close to the disturbed blonde, let alone if they wanted to have a lengthy discussion with her about murderous fairytale monsters.

"Why do you care?" an Asian boy asked bravely.

"Let's put it down to a habit picked up from my working environment." The boys looked at her blankly. "Just humour me." She commanded with more aggression than Xander was comfortable with.

"And that's my cue to remove the crazy girl with the axe." He said with loud joviality, hoping to ease the fear of the boys as he tugged Buffy away. Caught off guard, Buffy barely put up a fight.

"Hey!"

"Hey yourself." Xander said as he hauled her a safe distance from the campfire; away from impressionable children. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Bein' friendly." Buffy shrugged, raising her bottle of bourbon to her lips and spitting the pitiful mouthful out when Xander shoved the bottle away from her face.

"Hey! Now you're bein' rude!" She slurred, struggling to focus on the one-eyed man as she squinted through her scowl.

At that moment someone approached the pair and Xander moved out of Buffy's space. Xander recognised the man as one of the other scout leader's. His complexion and features hinted at a Native American ancestry.

"Uh, hi there." He smiled hesitantly, standing in the tense atmosphere that hung between Buffy and Xander.

"Oh what do you want?" The inebriated slayer accused angrily.

"I overheard you talking to the boys about–"

"Listen, I'm sorry about that. Didn't mean to scare them." Xander apologised quickly, attempting to steer Buffy away from the Scout leader as she leered threateningly at him.

"Wait. It's not that." The aboriginal man assured them hurriedly. Xander stopped to face him. "You said you were from California, right?"

"Originally, yeah..." Xander said suspicion evident in his features.

"So then you must have been there when everything went down; before the quarantine?" The scout leader continued. Xander got the sense there was a word or phrase he wanted to use but was restraining his vocabulary. Xander was stoic for a moment then nodded stiffly. The other man's eyes shifted restlessly from Xander to the tree line.

* * *

Faith finally let out the breath she'd been holding.

A naked man was laid before her with limbs splayed and angled in an uncomfortably unnatural display. Faith swallowed hard attempting to gain some composure and relax her ragged breathing. She let the Zippo light dance along the length of his chest, freezing when she came to a particularly gruesome evisceration in the centre; exactly where she assumed the heart should be. The small flame in her hand revealed only the hollow cavity of the muscle's previous home. Furrowing her brow, Faith inched closer, Slayer instincts taking over.

"Shiiit." Faith repeated with a hiss of growing fear, suddenly aware that she might not be alone in the forest after all. She turned back, tempted to run to the others and warn them that something sinister was taking place around the camp. She wondered if Jeff the giant or either of his associates had it in them to kill. She knew it took a certain kind of mind to take a life willingly. She reached back down to the lifeless body of the man, examining his face. Images of her earlier aggressive outburst flashed before her and she suddenly recognised the man as one of the soldier's who'd restrained her. She sighed, frustrated and sad at the death of another innocent under her watch. With renewed sensitivity she gently turned his head to the side. A familiar wound was revealed along the throat in the dim light of her flickering zippo. The unmistakable signature bite of a vampire glistened in the flame's light. Although its origin was clear Faith noticed an explicit sense of savagery in the attack. Looking around her, Faith was suddenly consumed with thoughts of feral vampires hiding in the woods. She had no idea how long the two marines had been in the woods or why they'd decide to move so far from the camp. She was left to assume that they'd been chased by who – or what – had deemed them edible.

Faith stood upright, absorbing the moment with forced apathy as she weighed her options. Then with sudden purpose she, leant down to her boot, unsheathed her stolen dagger and strode deeper into the forest. She made it barely ten steps when she stopped and her shoulders slumped as a frustrated sigh escaped her clenched jaw.

"Don't be stupid." Faith reprimanded herself. She'd learnt that single-minded actions never ended well; the bruise across her chest from the thing that had attacked her in the streets of Salt Lake City was one of many sore lessons. She'd walked alone into chaos and had almost met her end on more than occasion. No matter how innocent the forest appeared to be it had allowed one death already and she was unwillingly to be the next. Faith had stubbornly turned on her heel and begun to trek back to the camp when she heard it.

It was barely a whisper in the deep heart of the forest, just audible enough to catch Faith's attention and cause a wave of goose bumps to travel across her exposed arms and stomach.

She heard a voice. A voice that was singing the most blissful melody Faith had ever heard.

* * *

"I saw the news reports of L.A and New Mexico back when this first started...all the way up until San Francisco when things became pretty vague." Now Xander was positive he was hinting at something. "And you must be high if you think carrying around some crazy medieval battle axe all the time is standard camping equipment." Buffy reflexively drew the mentioned weapon to her side. "And the two guys who were with you? Kitted in full military uniform? Jeff might be a soft touch but I'm not stupid." Xander remained quiet, unsure whether the scout leader had a question on the unexplainable and devastating events currently ravaging America's West coast or if he assumed they were dangerous refugees, but before he could try to calm his fears or question his motives, Buffy had beaten him to the punch.

"Whadyu want from us?" Buffy challenged as she wavered on her feet, scythe and bottle both swinging precariously in either hand.

"You're the only people who'll actually believe me." The scout leader confessed looking desperate. He peering back at the scouts huddled around the campfire then motioned Xander and Buffy behind a cabin so they were out of view of curious eyes. Buffy's protesting of the impromptu move stopped in an instant and her ears perked up when she heard the anxious man's next words, "The Witch is real."

* * *

Faith had descended deeper into the forest, further than she'd ever intended and without her own volition. Beads of panic-induced sweat began to build along her hairline as she found herself moving with startling speed without the aid of her lighter. She'd even hid her dagger away without really knowing why.

The sounds of the trees shifted in strange and inexplicable ways that couldn't be explained away by the wind. Faith swallowed hard, unable to turn her head from the direction of the haunting voice that beckoned her deeper into the forest. Skulking expertly between the gnarled trunks, Faith followed the angelic voice as it echoed through the trees. When she came to a steep ridge she scaled it quickly and peered cautiously over the edge. The volume and intensity of the enchanting voice increased tenfold. Faith eyes glazed over as she felt her expression slip into drowsy delirium. She had to physically shake her head to regain her vision and clear the fog seeping into her brain. Looking down over the ridge with fresh eyes, Faith saw a vast slope that led to a clearing, some twenty feet wide in all directions. The trees pressed together around the edge of the clearing, forming a solid wall of twisted bark. Faith was reminded of the coliseums she'd seen in poorly acted B-movies based on ancient Rome and gladiators that sparred to the death. Only the moonlight from above highlighted the scene taking place below her.

Two figures stood eerily alone in the clearing.

Faith spotted the missing marine in the centre of the naturally formed coliseum, along with the source of the enchanted singing. A woman of exquisite beauty and form circled the solider in a slow graceful manner that bordered on gliding; her elegant, shimmering dress flowed and danced in her wake like a curtain of snow. Her skin was incredibly pale, rivalled only by the ivory of her dress and the glow of the ghostly moon. Her hair cascaded past her shoulders to her lower back, like an ebony waterfall, the silken strands contrasting vividly with her floating figure. She seemed almost out of place, as if a black and white image had been cut and pasted into reality...her voice was pitch perfect, a wordless lullaby that soothed Faith's mind and traced a dazed smile across her face...if only she could reach out and touch...

Faith had to shake her head again, smacking the base of her palm to the side of her head. She'd been staring at the woman with unnerving intensity.

Her brow creased with the level of focus needed to concentrate on the mesmerizing woman and her captive. Despite the seemingly innocent scene it was blighted by a strange nagging worry in the pit of Faith's stomach. Something was wrong with the picture in front of her but her brain was struggling to process it.

The one definite fact Faith knew was that this woman had to be the culprit of the first soldier's murder. She knew looks could be deceiving in the world of demons and she wasn't about to let one musically talented bloodsucker trick her.

Faith slid silently down the slope, the earth beneath making an unusual sound in her wake but allowing her to make it to the base of the clearing without alerting her target. From her new proximity she cautiously took a closer look. Faith was slightly amused to see the soldier's face bore a look of giddy admiration. She blushed slightly when she realised she must have looked the same moments ago. Turning her attention to the girl that circled him, Faith noticed her ivory skin seemed even whiter up close and it became almost painful to look directly at the singing beauty.

Faith leant down slowly, making every effort to be silent in her actions, and selected a sharp, narrow stick from the choices scattered across the forest floor. She wiped mud from the potential weapon on her tattered jeans and pulled her fist into her chest, keeping the stake pointed outward as she inched closer to the blissfully ignorant duo. She watched as the woman came to a gentle stop, presenting Faith her back as she blocked the soldier from view. The lithe arms of the pale girl slid up the soldier and caressed his face. Faith was only a few feet from the pair. The melodic verses of the woman's song were palpable and suffocating at this short distance and Faith was walking forward as if drawn by a magnet. Her vision began to tunnel and blur and her legs quivered. The woman pushed the soldier's head to the side and leant forward yet Faith stood by as a numb spectator, losing the fight against...the...

The singing stopped.

Faith blinked rapidly, the world coming back in a rush and before she could become bewitched again she expertly lashed out with the stake.

With enormous pleasure Faith felt the jagged wood sink deep between the vampire's shoulder blades. There was a delicate cry of surprise and the woman slumped toward the soldier, bracing herself against him.

When she didn't burst into ash Faith paled.

She stood in petrified disbelief as white turned to red, a growing stain spreading across the back of the silken dress.

"Not again..." Faith begged miserably. The woman struggled to stand and Faith withdrew her hands as if recoiling from an electric shock.

Looking at them now they were stained with blood. She frowned in confusion. She discovered a similar dark red patch across her jeans.

"The hell..." Faith's eyes widened when she looked up to find a broken bone lodged into the woman's back in the exact place she'd just staked her. "...is going on?"

Her dumbfounded thoughts were interrupted when she was backhanded with such force that she left the ground, flew through the air and collided brutally with a tree trunk. She slid and tumbled back down the slope, loose earth avalanching along with her as she attempted to gain her bearings in a daze.

A loud hissing filled her ears, venomous and angry, like a cornered rattlesnake.

When Faith's dizzy eyes searched for the culprit of the attack she realised with sudden horror that the woman in white had become something far removed from human form. The soldier now stood in the shadow of an emaciated creature of absurd proportions and hideous appearance. It leered at Faith with icy pearls that sat glinting in the shadow of its deep hood. The black hair that once flowed majestically now hung damp and frayed from the depths of the cowl like drowned serpents. A cloak of repulsive colour and texture was draped across the skeletal thing that drifted toward Faith in eerie silence. Its porcelain skin, now rotten and dead, stretched tight around twisted hands. Its fingers flexed and curled, crowned with two inch nails as dirty and decayed as the rest of the monstrous thing.

But another far more nauseating transformation had occurred.

Faith's head was clear from her earlier disorientation and with the cobwebs gone she was forced screaming into the true state of the hellish pit she had naively stumbled into. Animal carcasses hung from the surrounding trees like vile decorations, most maggot-infested and rotting apart as piles of offal and bone littered the ground, tangled between the roots, meshed together like a nightmarish carpet of death that festered across the ground she was sprawled upon. Faith groaned as she removed her hand from the moist ground to find strands of stringy gore and flesh clinging to her palm. She glanced to the side and spotted a human eye gazing curiously back from its bloody burrow beside her shoulder. Repulsed, she jumped to her feet but was forced back down into the quagmire of filth face first. She cried out in disgust and frustration and spat out whatever managed to seep into her mouth. She pushed back against the invisible barrier, only managing to rise to all fours before being thrust to the damp, decaying soil with greater aggression.

"Get off me you sonuva–!"

Before she could finish the sentence, the twisted creature flexed its long, scrawny fingers and Faith found her jaw closing shut against her own will. Her angry cursing was muffled against her sealed lips and in the recesses of Faith's mind fear began to grow.

The creature let out a satisfied hiss, a distorted smile stretching up the sides of its face.

Someone screamed and Faith wondered if she'd regained the use of her mouth until she spotted the marine scrambling backwards in a frantic dash for freedom, trying desperately to distance himself from the contorted form looming over Faith. Whatever spell had been cast over him was clearly gone.

The creature turned at the sound of his alarmed cry and sped after him on all fours like some misshapen human spider. From her prone position Faith was forced to watch everything. After several gunshots and a second scream that made Faith's insides turn cold she watched the soldier's body fall to the ground and slide sickeningly down the slope, stopping dead at the bottom. Faith closed her eyes, using all her strength to try and tear free from her transparent prison. The sound of something being dragged through a mix of leaves, bones and meat made Faith redouble her efforts with anxious desperation.

She heard the ground squelch in reaction to her futile movements and a scream of frustration bubbled up inside her chest, escaping her lips as only an agitated whimper. Faith's eyes shot open in surprise at her achievement. The creature's head turned at the sound with similar surprise and growled lowly before crawling across the distance between them and shoving Faith onto her back. It examined her animatedly then made a strange clucking sound by clashing its teeth together before grabbing Faith roughly by the material of her top.

Like a corpse possessed the haggard thing dragged Faith's body through the dried blood and rotten remains of a dozen previous victims until she lay parallel alongside the silent marine. The cowl was drawn backwards and Faith received a front row seat to the creature's true face. A vestige of feminine features adorned the bloody skull that stared down at her. Dregs of filthy, ropey hair cascaded downward and framed its nightmarish face in constant shadow. The deep sockets glistened as sightless, pale eyes glared with unblinking curiosity. The creature wheezed deeply and its eyes rolled constantly, all the while exuding a cold, calculating intelligence. Faith stared back with wide eyes, swallowing hard and trying in vain to turn her head away from the leering monster.

It gnashed its teeth, the unnerving sound turning Faith's blood to ice. It drew a shuddering breath and Faith stared in terrified fascination at rows of filed teeth. The creature made a loud, strange hissing sound and it took a moment for Faith to realise it was taking a deep breath. But with purpose and precision as if trying to smell the slayer.

The creature's head moved slowly back and forth between Faith and the soldier, repeatedly ducking toward their faces and dragging vines of dead hair across Faith's face and neck as it inhaled deeply. Faith watched the hideous thing in disgust and confusion, unsure of why she was still alive. Her eyes widened with sudden overwhelming fear as the creature rested its chin in one emaciated hand and tapped a finger against its cheekbone in contemplation.

It was deciding who looked more appetising.

* * *

"It's folklore. A story parents tell their sons so they won't go running into the woods and getting lost. 'Don't go into the woods alone or the sightless Witch will steal your bones'."

"Catchy." Xander replied "I'm guessing you don't get many guys wandering off from the camp then?"

"Nope. They dare each other. Play rituals to supposedly draw her out. But no one's ever gone missing; they're not brave enough to go in there." The scout leader explained calmly. His hands were deep in the pockets of his denim shorts and he looked noticeably uncomfortable as he continued. "But...I've seen...things. Heard things at night." The Scout leader tried to hide his involuntary shudder by leaning into the cabin behind him.

"Such as?" Xander asked patiently. Buffy fidgeted by his side, peering distractedly into the forest. The scout leader rubbed at the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"You know the unexplainable kinds of sounds and sights that get you weird looks from the locals?"

"Intimately, bordering on perverse." Xander quipped drolly.

"I need to find, Faith. She's out there all 'lone." Buffy almost whined as she paced beside Xander, her eyes fixated on the tree line.

"Your friend went in there?" The scout leader asked incredulously as his voice took on a hysterical tone.

"Don't worry. She's as stabby as she is punchy." Xander assured, then paled a little at his choice of words and backtracked. "She's...hardy. She'll be fine."

"You haven't heard the stories..." The grimacing man moaned. "The things she does to people...I can't even...there are so many reports of missing people..."

"I'm goin' arfta her." Buffy slurred agitatedly, swigging the last of the bourbon and tossing the bottle to the ground. She pointed repeatedly at her chest, "She knees my help."

"Look, thanks for the heads up." Xander told the scout leader, patting him on the shoulder as he ignored the blonde's rambled words, but showed signs of growing aggravation. "We'll keep a look out and shout if we see Elphaba or her house-challenged sister."

Buffy stepped into Xander's personal space, separating the two men as she glowered up at him semi-soberly.

"But Faith—"

"Faith's a big girl." Xander finally snapped as he rounded on Buffy. "She's stood tall in your shoes for a while now – she can handle herself. The most dangerous person in those woods right now is her. Besides, I really doubt there's a big, bad witch blairing it up in this picturesque slice of Canadian bliss."

"There's evil here." Willow declared as she suddenly teleported next to Xander.

"Holy amazing Spiderman, Will!" Xander cried in a flustered state, his words falling over his tongue in a hurry. He raised his hands in exasperation as he turned to the gaunt, wide-eyed redhead, "How many times? How many times have I said not to do that?"

The one-eyed man clutched his chest as his heart regained a normal rhythm and then stopped entirely when someone caught his eye.

Xander's shoulders slumped in defeat. He sighed and looked tiredly at the scout leader who stood pointing at the Wiccan as his mouth hung agape.

"Is there any chance you didn't hear or see any of that?"

* * *

With incredible effort Faith turned her head just enough so the soldier beside her came into view. At a quick glance he appeared to still be breathing. Faith internally sighed with relief. The relief soon turned to dread as a skeletal hand inched into sight and raked a fingernail quickly across the marine's cheek. A bloody scratch now marked the unconscious man's face.

The creature brought the finger up to its mouth and Faith felt a shiver descend her spine when she realised it had tasted his blood.

The thing turned to her now, crooked teeth stained red. One emaciated arm stretched outward and a single, long, dirty fingernail dragged across Faith's cheek breaking the skin. Faith glared with detached malice as blood seeped from the small scratch. She barely felt the sting of the fresh cut and could only vaguely register her repulsion as the grotesque being caressed her filth-covered skin. This was just another bad night, another abuse she had to endure, another reason to hate the world and every cruel, deceitful thing living in it. Faith had seen all her nightmares come to life; this was only the third most agonising event of the past few hours and she wasn't planning to crack anytime soon.

The blood-stained nail was raised to the withered lips of the creature and Faith watched as the disgusting remnants of a tongue slithered from between sharp teeth to taste it.

For a nauseating moment Faith had to control her urge to vomit as the swollen, discoloured tongue languidly worked itself around the elongated finger. The seconds crawled by in silence and then a look of utter euphoria crossed the creature's demonic face, its jaw hanging open in disbelief as it drew a great, hissing breath. The creature now gazed down at Faith with all the wonder of a child on Christmas morning.

Faith grunted in amusement. Somewhere in the back of the slayer's twisted mind she found it flattering that her blood was something of a rare elixir to this wasted, godless creature. Both her fists lay balled at her sides as they shook in a vain effort to reach up and strangle the vile look of delight from the demon's face. She willed herself to ignore her erratic heartbeat and vulnerable state. She couldn't think about dying now, alone in an unknown forest in a foreign land with her companions clueless. Would Buffy feel her die? And more importantly was she too far gone to care anymore? Faith's thoughts overwhelmed her mind until she felt deafened by the chaos that bubbled within. Faith watched with bated breath as the monstrous hag's teeth flashed hungrily. Faith swallowed hard. There was no one to rescue her this time, no cavalry, no cunning trap.

She shut her eyes and prepared to meet the fate she'd long thought overdue.

With sudden, terrifying speed the creature lunged downward and Faith flinched. But after a moment she opened her eyes to find the soldier dangling pathetically above the ground due to the ungodly length of the demon's contorted legs.

Faith heard the crunch of teeth sinking into flesh and her blood boiled as she lay helpless to do anything to stop it. She could feel hot tears pooling at the corners of her eyes as the soldier shook and let out a choking moan before falling silent. The cloaked demon continued to make sickening slurping noises and Faith was left to comprehend why she wasn't currently experiencing the same end. Slayer's blood was supposed to be a delicacy among vampires. Yet this thing clearly wasn't a vampire; not one she'd ever encountered anyway.

She was torn from her thoughts by the sudden exciting realisation that she could flex and wriggle her fingers and toes.

There was an audible cracking, tearing sound and Faith jumped as the body of the soldier fell carelessly on top of her. The startled slayer stared at the dead man's face as it lay at an unnatural angle against her shoulder and a peculiar hot, wet sensation dripped along her arm. It was only when hearing the greedy, slobbering sounds from above that she spied the slick organ pierced between ravenous teeth and realised the soldier's heart had been ripped from his chest.

Faith covertly groped across the soldier's body, her arm hidden from view as her fingers traced the length of his belt. An object brushed against her prying digits and she took hold of it. A glance upward let Faith know the demon was too busy gorging on its meal to notice the marine's corpse shudder as she pulled the smooth object free with a quick tug.

The demon finally threw the dilapidated heart aside and ran its ruined tongue across its scarlet fangs.

"Saving the best for last?" Faith sneered as she felt her strength slowly returning. She'd regained her voice and had enough strength to conceal her borrowed artefact behind her back as the repulsive creature shot her a nasty look. "What are you waitin' for?" It gave a disinterested snort, apparently already full, and began to move away. Faith's lips curled back as she shouted a final provocation, "Fuckin' bite me, Witch!"

That seemed to do the trick, Faith thought as the soldier's body was thrown to one side and the slayer was dragged upward with strength unbecoming of such spindly arms. The demon snarled into her face, holding her by the throat as its eyes gleamed with sightless fury.

The demon's jaws opened, stretching impossibly wide as it pushed Faith's head to the side and bared it's fangs toward her exposed throat.

In a flash of rage Faith pulled her arm upwards with a yell of exertion and slammed her fist into the creature's mouth. The creature reeled back as it choked on the cylindrical object Faith had shoved in its throat.

With one quick, fluid motion Faith pulled the pin from the grenade before the creature threw her viciously against the ground. It hissed and clawed at the object lodged between its jaws as Faith crawled desperately up the slope, counting down from five.

When she got to one she clamped her hands to her ears and closed her eyes. There was a deafening bang and the clearing was filled with a flash of burning light.

A silence fell that choked even the night breeze. Faith's heart beat in her throat. She risked a peek behind herself and was greeted by a bloodcurdling shriek. Faith listened to the dog-like growls of the demonic woman as the misshapen mockery of human anatomy lumbered erratically around its macabre nest. It stumbled to the ground and threw earth and gore through the air in a fierce rage.

The creature held its head as if in tremendous pain. Faith had hoped the grenade were of the incendiary variety so she could have watched the monster burn along with its god forsaken pit. However, the flash bang seemed to have disoriented the creature enough for Faith to make her escape.

She paused on her ascent up the slope as she spotted the soldier's discarded pistol. She picked it up and checked to find the clip half full. Faith stood on shaky legs and aimed the gun purposefully at the maddened monstrosity as she prepared to shoot. The wailing witch suddenly shot up into the air, defying gravity as it stretched its arms to insane lengths and spat forth a stream of incomprehensible gibberish into the night air.

Within moments the ground began to move. The rotten soil shifted. The carcasses of half eaten animals and unlucky travellers twitched and convulsed, tearing apart as blood seeped and gushed from the ground like horrific geysers.

Faith backed away as the bloody earth pulsated beneath her. She watched in horror as columns of gruesome composition rose inside the clearing. Fur and flesh merged together, sinew laced itself around bone and gore-soaked abominations screamed out as they were born.

Faith watched the closest example turn to stare at her with the half rotten head of a deer's skull, it's maggot-bitten lips drawing back in a snarl as its only eye swivelled wildly in its socket.

Faith's breath came out hard and heavy as she scrambled backwards up the slope she'd originally arrived down. Fresh pillars of pulsating viscera and dirt protruded from the ground next to her and Faith heard herself scream.

The newly formed atrocities of nature began to stalk toward Faith in a predatory fashion, while the monstrous siren continued to chant uncontrollably into the night.

When her body refused to move of its own accord Faith clenched her jaw and commanded herself to run.

* * *

Faith ran full hilt up the slope, praying the creatures snarling and shrieking behind her wouldn't pull her back.

Faith dived over the other side of the ridge. She rolled with the impact against the hard soil and sprinted through the trees, scuffing her arms and legs occasionally as she forced a path forward in the absence of her lighter's guidance. Strange sounds echoed through the forest, loud and without natural origin as she made her clumsy escape.

Faith heard the trees creak and groan as if they were moving and between the moans of the forest the laboured, snarling breaths of something chasing after her got closer with every lumbering footstep. Faith jumped instinctively over a boulder in her path and snapped her body around sharply, firing the pistol fervently into the darkness. The twisted face of some hideous thing was thrown into illumination with each violent discharge of the gun and Faith fell to her back as she yelled out in shock. She heard a cry of fury as a bullet hit home. She flipped herself back up but heard something large and angry approach her from the right, Faith ducked down and threw her fist forward into the dark mass coming her way. The impact was moist and cold and she quickly pressed the barrel of the gun up in to its chest, firing three shots point blank. The creature collapsed with a sickening squelching sound and Faith continued to run.

The trees seemed to shift position and bend impossibly to prevent Faith's progress but she charged on determined to get back to the others. With a cry of alarm Faith felt a sharp pain cross her back as claws raked through her top and attempted to drag her backward. She threw her elbow into the face of her attacker, hearing a satisfying crunch as a skull cracked and oozed black fluid. It continued to pull at the shreds of her tank top unhindered and Faith was forced to tear herself free from it. Without her body to anchor the piece of clothing the creature stumbled backward with its prize and collapsed unceremoniously. Partly grateful to be rid of the bloodied and dirty garment, Faith didn't bother to wait for the creature to recover and was thankful her sports bra hadn't been damaged in the attack as she sped away.

There was a period of a few minutes where Faith thought she'd outrun the pursuing horde. But as she passed a heavily shadowed expanse of the forest a hand shot out of the dark and caught her ankle, sending Faith flying forward as she landed painfully against uneven ground. She gasped air urgently into her lungs and coughed, crawling desperately onward but crying out as the hand yanked hard on her ankle causing her knee to slide from under her and leave her piled awkwardly in a layer of dead leaves.

Without warning more hands clawed their way out of the darkness and grabbed whatever they could reach, pinning Faith down with their combined strength.

She cursed and grunted as she tried to free herself in the dark. Then the bodies around her finally shifted as one and she was pulled to her feet by two creatures as the rest filed out. The twisted form of their mother floated into sight and her nightmarish children bowed their heads in greeting.

She glanced down at Faith like a disapproving parent and the slayer almost choked out a laugh when the malformed fiend had the nerve to wag its bony finger from side to side in Faith's face.

Faith eyed the creature warily; acutely aware of the way it was slowly and methodically circling her.

The abrupt, distant sound of children's laughter interrupted the bated silence as it echoed through the forest. Lustrous eyes snapped toward the echo with blind excitement, forgetting Faith entirely as the withered creature searched out the sound.

"I'll kill you before you can land one fuckin' finger on them." Faith growled up at the retreating form of the spindly legged monstrosity. The creature turned slowly to face the slayer and pulled back its lips in an ugly, vile smile.

She let out a deep, heartless cackle of laughter as she slithered off in to the dark followed by more of the strange skeletal creatures she'd created. Faith watched her leave with seething hatred. However, her attention soon turned to the ring of remaining creatures surrounding her. They stared, some without eyes, swaying like marionettes, mutilated bodies void of life.

She was held taut by her two captors as a third creature stepped forth from the ring with aggressive purpose. Something resembling a fist connected hard with her bare stomach and Faith recoiled, absorbing the pain and refusing to cry out. Another blow landed at her temple, throwing her head to the side as the world spun with a kaleidoscope of colour. Attacks rained down on her with blunt efficiency, grinding her down until her knees began to buckle and her body sagged, held up only by the grip of her restrainers.

Something flared before Faith's eyes and she was back in front of Buffy, swearing and screaming up a storm as three men tried to hold her back.

Two of them were dead now.

Faith pictured Xander's tired face. She imagined Willow's despair at a seemingly mounting list of failures. But above all she saw Buffy's haunted face. She, who'd suffered more losses, felt more guilt than all of them combined.

Faith couldn't bear to drain the last of that poor girl's sanity. As she found her feet pushing her back up to her full height she silently vowed that no one else would die tonight.

With a roar that built up slowly in the pit of Faith's stomach and reverberated through the trees like the scream of a demon, the slayer threw her arms forward, causing either creature attached to them to collide in front of her with tremendous force. As the monstrous pair staggered in a daze, Faith lunged outward with both hands and with two violent jerks a throat was missing and a neck was broken. Two hideous heads rolled past her feet as their owners collapsed into messy piles of decay.

A fast backhand whipped Faith's head to the side but she simply turned to her attacker and spat blood into the face of the patchwork monster. She slammed her fist through its ribcage and grabbed hold of its spine, crushing it between her fingers.

It stood in silent indifference as only dead things could then fell to pieces as she tore her arm free from the gaping cavity.

The next creature to try its luck was rudely interrupted by Faith's fist journeying through its face. As its body slumped to the ground and Faith was in the process of removing her arm from the space she'd created in the monster's head, the others had turned to pounce on her. She came to life and launched herself upward, bringing both her fists down savagely on the nearest patchwork of skin and bone. Its horny head made the connection slightly painful, but still satisfying as she heard an audible crunch signally the creature's neck had broken from the savage force of her blow. She spun on the spot and roundhouse kicked another atrocity backward into the creature beside it. Faith watched them fall over the roots of a tree as she jumped high and landed with a sickening sound onto the midriff of one of the fallen creatures. She felt its body go slack as she cracked its spine against one of the large roots beneath its back.

The other creature sprung to its feet, raising its canine head and releasing a piercing shriek to alert the others before Faith could backhand it across the face and tear its head from its neck. She slid her dagger out of her boot and spun it in hand, testing its weight as she watched more abhorrent creations of the witch approach from the surrounding woods.

"That's right. Keep 'em comin'." She growled with an animalistic smirk. She felt cold blood trickling along her knuckles and glisten wetly across her face. She had bruises upon bruises and cuts overlapping fading scars. Faith felt half beaten to death and back again and every second was exhilarating.

With shouts of hollow fury she dismembered the first three creatures in graceful succession. Faith ducked the clammy hands of the next attacker and lashed out with a high kick that shattered the demon's jaw before shoving her dagger into its torso and gutting it with a forceful jerk of her wrist. She dodged a fist the size of her head, spun on the spot and grabbed the offending arm, breaking it over her knee to a chorus of agonized screaming that was silenced with a brutal head butt.

Faith panted slightly as silence once again fell on the forest. She wiped blood from her forehead and only served to add to the crimson stain.

Faith's legs buckled slightly as she edgily scanned the space around her. She steadied herself and glared in the direction she'd seen the witch disappear. Driven by bloodlust and fearing for the others she ran as fast as her legs would allow.

* * *

The sounds of panicked screams and gunfire weren't the ideal welcome but they aided Faith in finding the campsite. The glow of the lanterns between the trees seemed far brighter than she remembered and Faith had to shield her eyes to adjust to the intensity of the light. It was only when she got closer that Faith's eyes grew wide with horror at the towering flames surrounding the camp.

"No..." Faith stumbled to her knees as they gave out beneath her.

She watched in helpless shock as a wall of fire churned and twisted its way around the entire perimeter of the camp, blocking the cabins from view. Faith sat frozen, crippled with exhaustion and grief. The faces of her friends and those of the children she'd barely known flashed in front of her eyes and Faith could barely muster the energy to sob.

Just as she contemplated driving her dagger through her chest, a sudden break in the flames revealed Willow moving her hands expertly in strange wide circles. Faith watched the funnel of fire react perfectly to her motions and she realised the fire was a spell of the Redhead's doing. With immense relief, Faith laughed, not caring why or how the Wiccan had managed the incredible feat in her time of mourning. She jogged along the outside of the flames, hoping to sneak a peek of who else was behind them. She shouted through the inferno, attempting to get someone's attention, but her cries were drowned out by the wall of searing heat. The flames parted momentarily again and this time Faith spotted Xander standing beside Willow with an automatic rifle. But no Buffy.

Faith was torn between the relief of seeing her newly acquired friends and the creeping dread caused by the unknown whereabouts of the girl who'd initially abandoned them. She span on the spot, pulling at her hair with growing anxiety as she wandered if Buffy's heart was already clutched between the witch's cold, cruel fingers.

As if to answer her question, Buffy's body suddenly appeared, flying through the air as she made an unceremonious impact with the ground, skidding to a halt. She groaned arching her back as her face scrunched up in pain.

"Buffy!"

The fallen slayer squinted as a shadowy form came into focus. Her pain melted into surprise.

"You're alive!" Buffy rose with slight difficulty. Besides the blood trickling down the side of her face the brunette noticed four parallel lines where sharp talons had torn through her jersey and cut the skin beneath. But it was Faith's appearance that the older slayer seemed concerned with as she confronted Faith, gazing in quiet horror at the various stains, cuts and bruises that she'd sustained during her time in the forest.

"God, what happened to you?" Buffy traced the cut running across Faith's cheek and the exhausted slayer timidly averted her eyes.

"This is nothin'." Faith waved away Buffy's concern with her free hand. "Should see the other guy."

The thunderous cracking of wood and the snapping of twigs cut Faith's generous smirk short as she watched the canopy above them shuddered violently; needle-thin leaves raining down with each tremendous crack of timber. A shrouded, misshapen form emerged from the dark of the deep woods and two trees whined and creaked ominously as they were bent in submission to the thing forcing its path toward the slayers.

"Speak of the bitch..." Faith growled as the creature glided through the air, hovering higher than the tops of the cabins.

"Witch actually." Buffy clarified casually. "But I get why you'd make that mistake." The slayer quipped as she cricked her neck and eyeballed the approaching danger with a defiant glare. Several of the patchwork creatures skittered out from the trees to surround the slayers.

The Witch screamed into the night with all the venom of a wrathful god and the forest itself seemed to shake. She sniffed the air with great wheezing snorts and her dead eyes glowered at Faith with utter contempt.

The Witch grimaced hideously, the structure of her skull becoming pronounced with the stretch of her skin.

"Next time don't let your lackeys have all the fun." Faith simpered loudly over the roar of the fire, twirling her blood-christened dagger animatedly between the fingers of her right hand.

The Witch screamed again, unleashing a lightning bolt that blew chunks of earth skyward in the spot Faith had been standing a second ago. The slayer rolled away, thrown by the force of the blast.

"Okay." Faith shouted in irritation as she brushed dirt from her jeans, "Now she's just cheatin'!"

"Split up. I'll draw her fire and —" Buffy started as she backed away toward the forest and suddenly bumped into the wooden railing of a cabin's porch. "—you try to what the crap?"

Faith found herself standing beside the logs that encircled a now rather dwarfed campfire. Faith felt slightly nauseated by the unexpected transportation, but recovered quickly when she noticed that there was now a whole lot of fire between her and the thing that wanted to down her like a Jagerbomb.

Buffy turned in a full circle, still confused to find herself on the other side of the spinning inferno.

"I'm going to try something else." Willow shouted over the roar of the flames. When she turned to face Xander her eyes pooled to black, "You might want to get out of the way."

Xander didn't wait around for her to ask again and ducked as the swirling ring of fire began to shift and glow brighter in its intensity. Buffy pushed Faith down to the ground with her as they watched the torrent of flame bend to the magically amplified words Willow was chanting.

"That which is mine…of creation divine...with incredible might…seek the evil within my sight."

As one the flames shot upward and inward creating a burning roof above the camp. A vortex sucked the inferno upwards creating a funnel of incredible orange and red that resulted in the fiery ceiling condensing into a singular bright, burning orb. Faith and Buffy covered their eyes as the night was punctured with dazzling light from the blazing sphere that now hovered above the camp like a miniature sun. For an instant the monstrous witch floated in the air, mesmerized by the sound of roaring fire and the waves of heat that lapped at every surface, but then with a thunderous crack the fireball rocketed into the dazed demon.

A god awful scream filled the night, an endless howl of centuries' old agony poured from the Witch's mouth like bilious fluid. She thrashed and fell to the ground as a blanket of fire and smoke billowed from her burning flesh.

The creatures she'd built from her rotten nest had remained frozen in their last actions and abruptly began to convulse and shake before bursting into flame alongside their maker. They fell to pieces quickly, gore and melted skin dripping to the ground as their mutated, abused bodies broke apart and settled into piles of burning bones.

The witch flailed and batted at her contorted form in a violent frenzy then with a gust of air she bolted into the forest, the glow of the flames dimming as her shrieking cries became distant.

The group stood transfixed. Willow looked breathless and scared but oddly satisfied.

"I personally would have gone for the bucket of water." Xander quipped, as he lowered his rifle to his waist. Buffy helped Faith to her feet and the younger slayer quickly released her hand, the events of the night had not faded from her memory.

"Let her burn." Faith said bitterly as she drew her arms up around her chest.

With a sudden shriek the Witch scuttled from between the trees like an unnatural insect on impossibly spindly limbs, her features now distorted beyond all human recognition. The gang fell back in shock as with one violent movement they watched the screeching thing smash the window of the nearest cabin to a chorus of screams inside. The struggling form of a terrified boy appeared as he was pulled from the broken window, his eyes wide with fear.

The Witch lofted the boy above her head, forcing him to dangle like a helpless fly in the clutches of a spider. The decaying jaws of the smouldering demon widened with horrifying intent then suddenly faltered as she let out a scream of agony.

Buffy had moved with such astonishing speed that no sooner had the hapless boy been plucked from the cabin she'd already severed the tendons of both the Witch's ankles in one bloody sweep of the scythe.

The shrieking monster toppled toward the earth, releasing the boy abruptly as he used his hands to brace the impact. The witch growled in fury and agony, tossing her head upward in a subhuman snarl that shook the foundations of the nearby cabins.

Before the Witch had a chance to ascend into the air again, Buffy latched onto her twisted and leathery back and hooked the curve of the scythe's blade around her neck, tugging hard enough to drag the demonic woman back to the ground into a humiliating heap. Her skeletal form flailed in unrestrained fury as Buffy allowed the sharp point of the scythe to press against the exact centre of her slender throat. Buffy yanked back on the handle, her teeth clenched in furious determination.

Faith watched the eye sockets of the Witch stretch and widen in ways bone shouldn't allow as Buffy pulled with all her might, forcing the sharp angle of the scythe slowly through her throat. The witch let out a choked cry and attempted to lift her hands to her neck, but with one final, vicious tug the Witch's neck was sliced open, gushing a fountain of black blood upward as her head rolled backward, bounced off Buffy's shoulder and thudded to the ground. Buffy stepped away and after a moment of awkward convulsion the Witch's headless body followed suit, twitching and burning pitifully in the leaves.

The forest seemed to heave and sway as the disfigured wraith contorted and erupted into flaming ash. Endless screaming echoed throughout the forest, the ground shook and the whispering voices Faith had heard before returned as a choir of loud hissing incomprehensible words. Faith covered her ears as she watched the Witch's long, curtain of ebony hair recede, turning grey and finally burning to the scalp along with the hollows of her sunken sockets and weathered skin. Her jaw gnashed wildly the entire time, only stopping when the muscles holding the mandible to the skull burnt away and it too disintegrated with the rest of her hideous form. When the last bone was reduced to smoking ash all sound and motion ceased; the forest settled.

Faith took her hands away from her head, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief as if a thick shroud had been lifted from her shoulders.

"You're safe now. You're safe. I won't let them hurt you I promise."

Faith turned at the sound of the other slayer's desperate words. She spotted the blonde on her knees beside the remains of the Witch; clinging to the boy the creature had tried to eat. Faith noticed that the scouts and their leaders were beginning to venture out of their cabins, seemingly sensing that the danger had passed. As they filed out, all eyes turned to the boy being forcefully cradled by a rocking Buffy.

Faith stepped toward the other slayer, her repeated words of comfort becoming more disconcerting as she noticed the traumatic expression on Buffy's face. Xander stepped carefully toward her but quickly moved away when the scythe was pointed at him.

"B?" Faith tried softly as she approached the muttering slayer. Buffy continued to embrace the boy tightly with wide, unblinking eyes.

Faith lowered to her level and very carefully pulled the scythe from Buffy's hand. She passed it back to Xander and shot him a look laced with silent caution.

"Let him go, B." Faith coaxed gently, slowly prying Buffy's iron grip from the terrified boy. "It's okay."

"No." Buffy groaned desperately, trying half-heartedly to hold onto the scout.

"It's okay." Faith persisted with more patience and tenderness than she knew she possessed. "Let him go."

Gradually Buffy's arms loosened around the Boy Scout's body and he scurried away toward one of the scout supervisors, visibly shaken.

Faith could see Buffy trembling uncontrollably. In the absence of the boy's body she groped at herself and when Faith offered her hand to help her up she clung to it instantly, forcing Faith to her knees too.

"I did my best. I always did my best." Buffy moaned quietly. Unshed tears swam in her eyes as she stared imploringly at the other slayer. "I did. Didn't I? Tell me I did. Please, Faith. Tell me I did."

Buffy broke down into violent sobs, her head falling against the other slayer's chest. Faith swallowed against the lump forming in her throat. Hey eyes darted uncertainly from the girl pressed against her to the others around her before she finally encased the other slayer with her arms and hugged her like she might break if she stopped.

"Always, B." Faith whispered gently against her neck as she struggled to keep her voice from cracking. "Always."

* * *

The sun rose beyond the trees and gradually filled the camp with the light of dawn as Faith watched the dying embers of the campfire flicker and die. She sat on the dry leaves and uneven earth, her back resting against one of the logs that fenced around the fire. She was draped in a thin blanket that the scout leaders had offered her. Their humble words and awestruck faces resounded in Faith's head as she recounted the night's events. Her sleeping companion shifted restlessly against her and Faith's attention was drawn to the furrowing brow of a dreaming Buffy.

Once upon a time she would have given anything to know what twisted fantasies the supposedly vanilla girl conjured in her sleep. But now she knew Buffy's subconscious was filled with nothing but dread; taunted by her failures and haunted by the carnage and atrocities of the apocalypse. Faith's frown turned up slightly as she noted the irony of how innocent and fragile this unstable slayer of vampires looked right now tucked beneath her arm, nestled comfortably against her stomach.

The blonde had insisted on keeping watch all night. She'd been jittery with paranoia and consumed by numerous, horrible ideas in which one of the children could be easily killed. Faith had watched her with sad eyes and more out of a fear for Buffy than that for the campers; Faith had guarded the site alongside the anxious blonde. How they'd ended up like this she couldn't quite recall.

The obnoxious honk of a vehicle's horn sounded the approach of a large campervan and Faith woke up a little more as gravel crunched beneath its tyres. It drove slowly around the perimeter and came to a full stop beside Xander's cabin. Faith watched Jeff exit the campervan and knock on the cabin door. She turned back to look at Buffy, worried the horn had stirred her from her agitated sleep but she was still sound asleep, or at least appeared to be. Faith, exhausted herself, wondered when the other slayer had last slept. She hoped this well needed rest would restore some reason to the troubled girl.

Her head reluctantly returned to the cabin as she heard voices. Jeff was conversing animatedly with Xander who looked strangely bashful at whatever he was being told.

She felt Buffy shift against her and looked down to see the blonde raise her heavy head. Faith noticed the break line across the bridge of her nose had healed to the point it was barely visible.

She smiled awkwardly as Buffy's eyelids fluttered open and the blonde focused on her with tired green eyes. For a fraction of a second Faith sat with breathless awe; encapsulated by the innocence and vulnerability reflected in the slayer's uncomprehending gaze. In the twilight of her subconscious, before reality hit home Buffy looked like that perky eighteen year old girl who'd made Faith green with envy for her amazing life.

But then the weight of every bad memory sent the blonde reeling back to reality and Faith's heart ached as she watched the innocence wash from Buffy and her expression turned hard.

She jerked away from Faith and sat up.

"You okay, B." Faith tried gently, moving away the arm that just been wrapped around the older slayer.

"Mm." Buffy stared vacantly into space.

Sensing tension rolling off the other slayer in waves Faith felt her defensive nature boil to the surface in preparation for a verbal or possibly very physical assault; their history was blemished with both. She swallowed her pride and tried to break the hostile atmosphere

"Bet you didn't expect to ever wake up beside me anytime..." Faith drifted off as Buffy stood up and walked away before Faith could finish. She sighed, "...soon."

She got to her feet, stretched and went over to find out why Xander looked so happy.

"What's the what, Blackbeard?" Faith enquired, squinting at the smiling man through the strain of her fatigue. He picked up a backpack loaded with supplies and Faith caught it easily when he chucked it to her.

"We have a ride." He beamed, clapping his hands together with palpable glee.

* * *

Faith stepped into the campervan and was pleasantly surprised by its homey appeal.

"Not too shabby, huh?" Xander grinned from the top of a bunk bed, propped up on his elbow as he tested the mattress. Willow sat deep in thought in the passenger seat at the front and Faith spied Buffy curled up in the other top bunk, hidden beneath the blanket. Faith assumed she was sleeping or at least pretending to so no one would bother her.

"Sure." Faith replied and closed the door securely behind her. She walked in further and noticed the somewhat cramped living conditions, especially with the four of them. Two bunk beds lined the left side of the vehicle while a basic kitchen station and seating area at the comprised the right. She spotted a bathroom at the far end of the vehicle. Its size made her doubt the availability of a shower anytime soon. "Throw in a hot tub and I'm sold."

Xander wasted no time taking the wheel and carefully drove the trailer out of the campsite and along a dirt track, following the path until it opened up onto a road that stretched forever in either direction. The forest pressed in from either side.

Parking the vehicle on the side of the road for the meantime, Xander turned in the driver's seat to face the others.

"So. What now?"

The three companions seemed to take their time contemplating the question seriously.

"We should head south, find the border and try to contact someone. Not necessarily in that order." Willow suggested.

"Are you kiddin' me?" Faith stared incredulously at the two friends. "That's the first thing you think of?

"Well someone needs to know what happened at Salt Lake..."

"Fuck Salt Lake!" Faith snapped angrily, banging her fist against the aluminium frame of the campervan. "I am tired...I am...fuckin' exhausted of this shit. I've had to watch two people die without being able to do a damn thing about it. I had to bury them. I'm about ready to burn these fuckin' clothes with all the blood and death and shit I've had to go through and I'll be damned if I don't get a shower and one square meal before we even think of reporting back to...!"

Xander had closed the distance between them and embraced Faith in a solid hug before she could react.

"It's okay." The solemn man whispered. Faith clung to him desperately without really understanding why. "I didn't get a chance to say sorry about Wood. I know he meant a lot to you. I know this all isn't fair but you still have us. I promise."

He squeezed her tightly and pulled away, looking slightly impressed with himself that he'd achieved the impossible.

"Yeah. Thanks. It's cool." Faith cleared her throat and acted like she had something in her eye. She seemed unable to keep still. "Just a little on edge you know?"

"I was only thinking about the long term, Faith." Xander clarified softly. "But you're right it can wait. We deserve a time out."

Faith nodded, giving a smile that didn't quite meet her eyes. She still looked a little taken aback by the previous act of affection.

"So...where to?" Xander asked her sincerely as he sat back down in the driver's seat. The slayer let out a long, tired sigh and contemplated the question thoughtfully.

"I vote for the nearest diner. I'm wicked hungry." Faith declared as she ran a hand across her stomach before fixing the pair with a serious stare. "And you wouldn't like me when I'm hungry."

The unnerving atmosphere from moments before was alleviated instantaneously and somewhere behind her Buffy giggled.

Faith rolled her eyes, unsurprised that the other slayer had been feigning sleep, but she barely managed to restrain the smile that threatened to spill across her face.

"Slayer thing." The brunette explained with a shake of her head to the bemused looks on Willow and Xander's faces.

"Well I think we could all do with a decent meal. A change of clothing. And a shower – some more than others." Xander agreed, eyeing Buffy's hidden form for a split second.

"That sounds amazing." Willow sighed airily. "Where do we find all three of those things?"

"I say...we go where the road takes us. Bound to find somethin' sooner or later." Faith shrugged nonchalantly with an easy smile upon her face. She felt strangely warm and cheerful since Xander's display of selfless sympathy. She ducked her head into the driver's cabin and examined the length of asphalt that hilled and twisted between the trees ahead. "And the road leads that way."


	13. Facing Demons

**Author's Notes: Better late than never, right? Guys?**

* * *

**Facing Demons**

She was cold and alone in the dark of the woods.

Clammy hands clawed at her body, dragging her beneath a pit of damp earth and dead leaves. Her attempts to resist proved futile; their cold rough touch relentless, desperately pulling her down. Her legs sunk into gore-soaked mud that squelched horribly as she slipped further in. The trunks of twisted trees seemed to lean downward like eager spectators, cutting off the dim glow given off by the rusted red sky. Her arms were seized and forced down by her sides as her torso steadily disappeared into filth and decay.

As bone-numbing panic set in a figure appeared in the corner of her eye. Turning desperately toward this new source of help, she was stunned to find Buffy watching her struggle with amused curiosity.

"Where do you think you're going?"

The blonde's chipper, carefree tone contrasted eerily with the situation at hand and her once familiar face, still full of hope and love, looked like a beacon of light in the surrounding gloom. She froze, staring dumbly at the girl with her knee length red dress and meticulously crafted hairstyle, all urgency to fight against her unnatural burial forgotten.

"It's your birthday." Buffy chirped, clearly eager to recount this information as she wound a lazy path towards her, the blonde's thick soled boots crunching over hidden bones. She raised her eyebrows and her mouth stretched into a wide smile as she stopped, towering over her, "Guess what I got you."

A feeling of déjà vu made her feel sudden, inexplicable dread as Buffy smiled down in silence. Her pleading scream was too late, cut off by her own startled shout as Buffy's boot stepped onto her head and pushed it down into the foul, wet darkness.

Faith woke with a start, her head stopping short of connecting with the bunk above.

It had been the same nightmare Faith had endured three times already and once again she found herself covered in a thin layer of sweat with her heart beating to a frantic rhythm. It took a moment until the familiar bumpy rolling motion and gentle hum of an engine put her fear-induced confusion to rest and she let out a shaky sigh, beginning to relax.

Getting her bearings, she spied Willow over at the half-table in the kitchenette area, staring out the small square window above the sink. Since the RV was in motion and Xander was nowhere in sight she assumed he was in the driver's cabin like he had been for the majority of their impromptu road trip.

"You had another nightmare." The voice made Faith whip around to find the third passenger, currently peering down from the bunk above her own. Buffy's hollow eyed stare turned Faith's blood cold and she used all her willpower not to mentally retread the nightmare she'd just escaped. The omniscient, almost smug look etched on Buffy's face told Faith denying the accusation would have been pointless, so she simply stared back at the gaunt faced girl, doing her best not to look phased at being caught. A look of genuine interest crossed the blonde slayer's face as she asked, "How do you tell the difference?"

A crease formed on Faith's forehead as she contemplated what she meant. She decided to feign ignorance and walked off toward the front of the RV, uncomfortably aware of Buffy's eyes burning into her back. As the slayer slid into the driver's cabin she caught her first proper view of the snow-dusted scenery rolling past and had to do a double take. Faith had been so preoccupied with her own thoughts she hadn't been aware they were, for once, not travelling at a snail's pace.

Three days had passed since they had first landed in the great white north and received a welcome Faith could only describe as 'mixed'.

In that time they had made far less progress on the roads than Faith would have hoped and the slayer's brain, that was so quick to cynicism, convinced her they would have gotten twice as far hiking it on foot. Cars and trucks and coaches clogged the roads in both directions. The only positive thing to take away from their little slice of traffic hell had been realising that they were making far better headway than those driving in the other direction.

They were heading toward North America after all and anyone with some sort of sense was doing the complete opposite. A clunky but reliable radio Xander had picked up on one of their rare pit stops painted a vivid picture of how events were unfolding and from the scatter of traffic reports it picked up there appeared to be an enormous migration movement underway. Unfortunately, after the first few hours on the road they had found themselves caught in their own trail of panic. News of the chaos along the Californian Coast reaching Seattle and heading up into Canada had induced a ripple of panic across the country, sending the frightened masses as far East as possible. And so a journey that should have taken a day had stretched torturously over three.

Any chance they got to stop to pick up extra supplies or clothing - that didn't look like it had been through a war - was gratefully taken but often accompanied by frustration. People were panic buying, or just cutting out the middle man and straight up looting, which more times than not left the gang with slim pickings. Plus with most stores unstaffed and in disarray it hadn't exactly been Faith's fault if she'd dipped back into her old mantra of 'want, take, have' once or twice. It brought up unpleasant memories but if her morals had to slip so they could survive then so be it. In any case, she wasn't even sure if money still had value at this point.

But there were certain things you couldn't steal, a limit to the amount of time you could tolerate clothing that wasn't the right size and a line - that they had clearly crossed - where stinking of days worth of grime masked poorly by deodorant was acceptable. The cracks had begun to show in the group. The RV was nice and generously sized to a point, but it still felt claustrophobic at times, especially after hours upon hours in a gridlock. Tempers were growing shorter and nerves more frayed with each passing day. If they didn't find a new, more spacious set of digs with sorely needed utilities all hell was going to break loose.

Xander started when he finally realised Faith was stood right beside him. "Well hello silent and deadly. Sweet dreams?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." she mumbled darkly, squeezing into the passenger's seat.

"Allllrighty then." He acknowledged with a casual brightness that was far removed from his temperament of the previous days. He had been impatient and surly, snapping at her or Willow for simply poking their head in. After a few minutes of silence filled with Xander's cheerfully hummed rendition of a song Faith couldn't quite place she finally called him out on it.

"You're in a good mood." Faith noted, more amused than irritated by this observation. "That got something to do with the rubber we're currently burning?"

"You are correct, sir."

Between a forever moping Willow and an unhinged Buffy, seeing someone in high spirits was incredibly refreshing. Faith couldn't help but smile, barely suppressing a chuckle.

It faded when a cursory glance to the speedometer informed Faith that they were practically running on fumes.

"We're running pretty low on gas." She informed, doing her best to keep the concern out of her voice.

"Have no fear. According to the road signs there should be one in the next mile or so."

"Think we'll actually get lucky with this one?" Faith looked dubious.

"I've got a good feeling." He declared boldly, nodding to himself, "Ninth time's the charm."

It was a few minutes later that Faith heard a muttered, "Shit." She looked up, surprised to hear Xander curse, then followed his line of sight and quickly realised why his optimistic disposition had evaporated.

She stared pensively at the crowded forecourt, vehicles of all shapes and sizes cramming in to desperately get to a pump despite signs posted around the station declaring their reserves were tapped dry.

Faith looked silently to Xander who was wringing his hands on the steering wheel and working his jaw back and forth. He sighed irritably and Faith could tell he was weighing up their options. "We might make it to the border as we are. We're not far now and the road's been almost empty for the last dozen miles. Looks like we're the only ones crazy enough."

"Where else would we go?" Faith asked, genuinely hoping he had an alternative in mind.

He didn't seem to have an answer and without another word the RV continued down the freeway.

Xander spent the next ten minutes in silence. The humming had not returned and his face looked drawn. Eventually he softly asked, "Is it just me, or does it feel like we're leaving one Hellmouth behind to get to another?"

"A little." Faith exhaled the words quietly, rubbing at her tired eyes. "Maybe that's the point. You heard Red's theory on why we ended up here."

Willow had become convinced that the energies building at the Eastern Hellmouth had influenced their magick fuelled getaway, altering their trajectory and supercharging the teleport to the middle of Canada. More alarmingly, when looking at a map - as long as it wasn't Buffy's crayon-covered map of horrors - it would appear they had been placed between a rock and a hard place. Except in this instance the rock was an endless army of demons and the hard place was Cleveland's Hellmouth. Since only one of those options offered death as a possibility rather than a certainty, Faith and the others found themselves about to pass dangerously close to a city on the verge of an unholy meltdown.

"I think choice and freewill went out the window the day we left Sunny D." The slayer stated bitterly, "The First won and it knows it. We're just here to be played with till it gets bored. Or until we die." She pushed back in her chair and stifled a yawn, "Whatever comes first I guess."

Xander had little else to add to the discussion so Faith let her mind drift for the next hour, the scenery blurring in and out of focus as she did her best to think of anything but what would meet them on the horizon.

She was drawn from sleep when Xander murmured, "Heads up. We're here." There was a hint of anxiety detectable beneath his otherwise relieved tone, "Last chance to change your mind."

Faith immediately noticed the reception that waited beyond the small line of queuing traffic in front of them. She jerked her head in its direction and when Xander found what had caused a frown to darken her features, his face assumed a look of resignation. The silhouettes of tanks and soldiers stood between them and their exit back into the United States.

They weren't going anywhere.

* * *

The road outside burned black as gushes of flame erupted high into the air from deep cracks in the charcoal-coloured asphalt. Buffy watched the burning skeletal figure propped up against the charred remains of an unrecognizable hunk of metal, its burst tires and twisted frame slowly descending into the broken earth. A flame-licked skull turned to look her way and stared blankly, its jaw moving in a slow, rotating grind.

A murmuring voice gradually caught her attention and when she focused, its full volume caused her eyes to snap across the table to its source.

"You with us?" Faith asked in a voice that was a marriage of concern and irritation.

The blonde's eyes stared for a moment, hollow and unreadable, then flickered back outside.

A man who looked to be in his fifties leant against a battered old truck and regarded them with bored indifference, continuing to smoke a cigarette. Beyond him and the small parking lot lay an innocent snowy scene framed by the window. Faith took it in, wistful of how normal and innocent it looked, almost allowing her to pretend that hell wasn't approaching on the horizon. Seeing nothing of immediate danger or interest, Faith looked back to Buffy, growing more agitated by her behaviour.

Faith returned to the road map she and Xander had been going through, determined not to let Buffy's brand of weirdness get a rise out of her.

They had managed to get the RV into a small town in the middle of nowhere, just a few miles from the border. Dense forest and sloping hills walled in the charming rural community conveying a feeling of safety that Faith knew not to trust. The urge to play pretend was proving very difficult to ignore. It looked like Xander and Willow had already given in to the illusion; though their relaxed body language may have had more to do with finally escaping the confines of the campervan.

The motel they were currently holed up in had luckily still been open for business and Faith had walked in, determined to get a room with a bed and working shower. Luck finally befell them and the kindly older gentleman that owned the joint had provided two rooms free of charge for the one night, apparently feeling great sympathy after receiving them in such an exhausted and dishevelled state. Faith had been prepared to do anything, her life in Boston and prison having taught her a thing or two about trading certain services for favours. Canadians really were too nice for their own good.

They had all showered and dressed in fresh clothing, bar Buffy, who hadn't done much else but stand at the window and stare into the town from the moment they'd arrived. A food count revealed they had enough snack goods and tin foods to last them an astounding five days - if they half starved themselves. Faith knew she should have hoarded more from the last half-looted store they'd stopped at yesterday.

Faith, Willow and Xander were discussing what the next plan of action should be when the latter turned abruptly to the member of the group who hadn't said a single word.

"What do you think we should do, Buffy? You've had more firsthand experience than all of us combined, so if you have anything helpful to contribute I'm all ears." Xander asked with forced brightness, causing Faith to begrudgingly acknowledge the other slayer. The blonde had finally turned from the window but was hunched in the corner beside it, knees pulled up to her chin. She didn't seem to know what to do with her hands and her fingers fidgeted slowly; her right thumb rubbed repetitively over her closed fist like she was attempting to ignite an imaginary lighter. This quiet place free from danger was making the original slayer all kinds of antsy.

"It doesn't matter." She eventually answered in a soft, faraway voice that stole the warmth from the room.

"What doesn't matter?" He enquired patiently. Buffy stared at him for a long moment. Faith got the impression she didn't want to give the answer. She sighed and closed her eyes, rearranging herself to get more comfortable.

Once settled she replied, "It doesn't matter what we do now. It's too late." Her tone was devoid of emotion, "We're all going to die here." These were apparently her last words on the matter as she pulled the hood of her battle-worn jersey over her head, hiding her face.

While the other two stared numbly, Faith observed the other slayer's cool exterior with deep distrust. She could feel the tension flying off Buffy in waves. That raw and alien sensation that Faith barely recognized as their slayer connection rolled over her skin and down her spine like fire.

Buffy was starting to lose it. This new Buffy was a blood-soaked killer, a hollow vessel where only the slayer remained, and days of inaction had left the girl without purpose or reason. There were no demons here, no distractions and therefore no place to hide from her recent sins.

* * *

Explaining that she needed a smoke, Faith had managed to slip outside and immediately sucked in the brisk autumn breeze. She shivered at the cold, the warmth retained by her hot shower contrasting sharply with her bare skin. She popped her neck as she rolled her head from side to side, leaning into one of the pillars supporting the motel's extended roof and released a cleansing breath.

Faith had felt hopeful and recharged after fighting that undead bitch in the woods. It had felt like the first win for them in ages and had been sorely needed for morale. But in just a couple of days the glow of the achievement had faded and a general weariness of everything and its attached terribleness had taken its place. She had begun to see that hope had no place in this new world taking shape around her.

And Buffy - Buffy was the personification of this madness. The best of humanity cannibalizing itself, driven mad with fear and grief; stripped of morality. Faith had hoped the events at the camp would have been a breakthrough for Buffy, the beginning of a path toward the light. Instead the slayer's condition had grown worse and she had spent their journey on the road avoiding eye contact and uttering only a handful of sentences that had caused nothing but unease.

She retrieved her almost empty carton from the back pocket of her jeans and drew out a single, white stick. Lighting the object proved less simple and growing impatient, Faith muttered curses at the wind as it continued to thwart her attempts.

"Alis incendari."

A flash of fire sparked at the end of the cigarette and Faith moved it away from her face in surprise. She scowled with suspicion at the offending object before glancing behind to see Willow. Her face suddenly looked rather impressed.

"Thanks." Faith said somewhat awkwardly. Unsure of what else to do she offered the carton in the redhead's direction. Willow gave her a queer look before shaking her head quickly.

"What? Hoping to die of old age?" Faith chuckled as smoke issued from between her lips, "I don't like your chances."

They stood outside together for a while and Faith waited for the inevitable. The witch clearly had something of importance to say to her; it being highly unlikely she was freezing her ass off for the view. When she finally found the courage to voice what was on her mind, the words she spoke were the last thing on earth Faith would have expected to hear - from Willow of all people.

"I'm sorry I brought us here."

Faith blinked. She spent a moment trying to work out why Willow was apologising, especially to the woman who had once held a knife to her throat. They had grown closer in some small ways during their time at the military base in Salt Lake, but being able to treat someone civilly never qualified them to be anywhere near BFF material.

"Uh, it's cool." Faith's surprised expression kept flitting between Willow and the carton in her hands. She fidgeted with the box, desperate to have something to do while Willow stared at the ground. Finally feeling the need to say something she tried with, "Don't beat yourself up about it, Red. You saved our skin."

"Tell that to Amy." was Willow's instant, sour reply, "Or those others that came through with us, burnt and twisted."

Faith's empty stomach lurched at the abrupt imagery she'd repressed for days.

"There's no point blaming yourself, Will." The slayer stated tightly, "Like they say, shit happens."

"I know it's not like I did it on purpose, but sometimes when I close my eyes all I can see are their faces. Even the ones back at the base, all those people we worked beside for months." Willow confessed solemnly. Not noticing the stiffness of Faith's posture, the exceptionally long drag she was taking or the agitated tick her right foot was developing, the witch continued, "But you're right. There's no point blaming myself-"

"Great. Now can you stop talking about it?!" Faith snapped, angrily flicking away the burnt stub of her cigarette.

Willow looked stricken for a moment and then turned awkwardly on the spot to face the street.

"Are you okay?" she tried after an uncertain pause.

"Five by five." Faith's half stifled chuckle and incredulous expression conveyed that clearly nothing would be okay from now on.

"Still don't know what that means." Willow smiled weakly when Faith scowled darkly. Sensing it might not be the best time to engage the slayer she added, "I can go if you want to be alone."

"Why are you apologising to me?" Faith blurted out, unable to hold back her curiosity and causing Willow to hesitate from leaving. "What do you care if I'm mad at you for stranding us here?"

The redhead tucked some hair behind her ear as she tentatively said, "Don't take this the wrong way but for a time back in Utah you were kind of our new Buffy."

Faith had opened her mouth to retort, brow furrowed defiantly, and her expression froze as Willow's words registered.

"You took her place when she abandoned us. I...struggled with that for a long time. Sometimes I felt like running out in the night just like she did, looking for an end." Willow revealed, her glazed eyes watching a car pass down the road that snaked around the thickly packed trees, "But you kept us together. It might not feel that way to you, but no one forced you to work with us, you could have hightailed it across the world and enjoyed life till the apocalypse came knocking. But you didn't. I may not have always shown how grateful I am for that."

The slayer was so stunned by Willow's admission that she didn't trust to open her mouth, fearing only garbled nonsense would pass her lips. Eventually recovering from the effect of Willow's outpouring she said with a lopsided smile, "That's sweet and all but I'm thinking there's another reason you're out here."

Willow hugged herself tighter, stroking her arms. Her heavy sigh ushered from between her lips as a white fog.

"What's wrong with Buffy?" The question sounded like it had come from a scared child. Faith was starting to feel like a fish with how often Willow had left her mouth gaping helplessly in past several minutes. Fortunately the wiccan had more to say, "I lost the love of my life and skinned a man alive and I didn't misplace my marbles." She managed the sentence with only a slight waver to her voice. "She seemed a little tweaked back at the base, sure, but ever since that night in the woods it's like..."

Now Willow was the fish, her jaw opening and closing as a clear struggle battled within her. "I look in her eyes, on one of those rare times she actually looks back, and I don't see my friend inside there anymore." Willow admitted in a low, thick voice.

"Honestly," Faith sighed, knowing her opinion would do little to ease Willow's mind, "I think, all this down time isn't doing her so good in the neurological sense. Weeks of nonstop death and destruction, without a moment to breathe, to reflect on what you're doing. Then suddenly it goes away." She remained thoughtful for a moment. "Now she's finally noticing all that blood on her hands."

The redheaded witch looked like she was mulling this theory over.

"So what are you worried she'll do? Have a mental break down?" Willow's eyebrows rose as she took on an expression of disbelief, "Cus I'd say she passed mental break down four stops back."

"No idea." Faith admitted honestly with a shrug. "She's not the first slayer to deal with doing fucked up shit, but it was just a few steps down for me. I know she hasn't exactly been as clean cut as when we first met but she still had to fall a whole lot further." She looked at Willow and with full sincerity said, "I don't know if you can be the person you were after something like that."

Sudden raised voices caught their attention and they looked back to the room in alarm. There was the distinct sound of something breaking and then Faith heard someone cry out in pain.

"Shit." Faith ran toward the room as she shouted out for Xander.

He staggered out of the door before they could open it and both women froze at the sight of his bloodied face. He was cradling his left arm. His one, wide eye latched onto Faith's expectant face, "I hit her." His voice wavered as he said the words. He was clearly in shock and another step forward caused him to wince at his injuries. Faith caught him before he could stumble to the ground.

"She just kept...talking about..." He struggled to get his words out between twinges of pain, "...I know she was doing it for...a reaction but..."

"It's okay, Xander." Faith said calmly, understanding just how good Buffy had become at pushing the buttons of others.

"I was so angry-"

"It's okay." Faith emphasized firmly.

The hollow laugh Buffy seemed to have adopted echoed loudly from the open room and made Faith's skin crawl in a way that made the chill in the air envious. The blonde stalked slowly toward the doorway.

"Did I hurt your feelings?" Buffy taunted in an obviously acted show of concern. She pouted and inclined her head, observing the fallen man, "Poor baby."

Buffy checked the dribble of blood running down from her nose to the side of her mouth.

"You did that to Buffy?" Willow asked in astonishment.

"No. The chair I hit her with did." Xander explained matter-of-factly. He rolled his eye at their twin looks of surprise, "Oh, because punching her wouldn't have been suicide!? Despite popular opinion I am not an idiot!"

"No, just a coward." Buffy stated coldly. She examined the blood smeared across her finger for a moment then slipped it purposely between her lips, running her tongue along the bloody digit. Her eyes met Faith's mesmerized gaze and a coy smile crept across her face. Faith turned her head away, feeling a mixture of disgust and exhilaration she didn't want to address anytime soon. Anger quickly replaced them both.

They needed an intervention before this all headed to a very bad place.

"You think," Faith stood to her full height, her teeth bared and fists shaking, "you can just come back into our life, act like nothing went down and then start smacking us around?"

Buffy watched her with bored eyes.

"We don't need you, Buffy. Me, Willow, Xander, Robin. We all got on fine until you came along and fucked us all over - again!" She spat furiously. Buffy laughed a second time, a hollow, menacing sound.

"You don't need me, Faith?" Buffy asked with a deliberately exaggerated look of confusion. The mocking smile that cut across her face warned the younger slayer of what she was about say before the words left her mouth, "That's not what you said back in L.A." The blonde's top lip pulled back into a sneer, her challenging glare inexplicably seductive, "You told me exactly what you needed-"

The sound of Faith's open palm striking Buffy's cheek echoed like a thunder clap through the snowy night.

Faith was breathing like she'd sprinted a mile. Buffy's head hung low, her dirty hair draped around her face. There was a beat filled only by the sound of the mournful wind and the sense of anticipation that hung in the air.

She noticed the scarlet shimmer of the scythe too late and it was hefted above Buffy's head by the time she rolled out the way, narrowly missing being cleaved down the middle. Faith spun around, her face a mask of frightened disbelief. The image of Buffy standing over her as she sunk into the dirt flashed inside her head and it cost her the opportunity to avoid Buffy's next strike. The blonde was poised above her, teeth bared like an animal.

"You really should mind your manners, F-!" Buffy dropped to the ground like a stone, the scythe clattering harmlessly across the concrete. Only after experiencing extreme confusion and doing a double take did Faith realise she had fallen asleep.

Her gaze shifted beyond Buffy's softly snoring form to a bewildered looking Xander and then to a very guilty faced Willow. The witch looked torn between relief and horror. Weakly, she uttered, "Now what?"


End file.
